


Helden

by RedheadedDragon



Series: Raveena [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:32:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 55,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4958992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedheadedDragon/pseuds/RedheadedDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dragonborn comes face to face with her past and must come to terms with who she is if Ulfric is to win the Civil War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the Rebirth

Sound was the first of her senses to return. The creaking of wooden wheels turning round and round on a stone road broke through her foggy mind. She heard the occasional bird chirping in the distance along with other sounds of the outdoors. She could hear talking coming from somewhere behind her along with the clopping of horse hooves and the random swishing of a tail. Next she started to notice the smells of trees and various floras alongside the road, but none distinctive enough to give her any indication as to where she was. She then came to the realization that her hands were bound in front of her – and they hurt. She attempted to move her hands only to be greeted by sharp twinges of pain radiating from her wrists; she was not bound by just anyone but by someone who knew how to keep someone from escaping. Slowly her eyes opened her vision blurry at first, then clearing to show the back of an Imperial soldier’s helmet. ‘By the Nine,’ she angrily thought to herself. ‘I’m fucked.’  
A blonde solider noticed her taking in her surroundings. “Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and the thief over there.”  
“Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If it hadn’t been for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. You there… You and me, we shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.”  
She looked to the man next to the blonde, this one had brown hair and his eyes were wide with fear. She immediately sneered as it all came back to her now. This shameless cow-suckled vile excuse of a man tried to steal her horse and when she went to correct his mistake she had felt a heavy blow to the back of her head and then darkness had fallen upon her. She glared at the thief. ‘Spineless milk-drinker,’ she thought in disgust.  
“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief,” this from the blonde in front of her.  
A voice from the front hollered back, “Shut up back there!” She threw a glance towards the Imperial and imagined running a blade alongside his neck.  
The thief, ignoring the solider, continued on, “And what’s wrong with him, huh?”  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the thief look to the space next to her. She turned to look and made eye contact with the man next to her. There was defiance in his eyes and his face was etched with the weight of many battles that had come with age. She quickly looked away as he seemed to study her as well; he was gagged.  
“Watch your tongue,” the blonde Nord spat at the thief. “You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King.”  
There was more blabbering from the thief, but she was in her own thoughts now. Snippets of discussions her father and uncles had had around the hearth fire, boisterous talk of war and whispers of rebellion when they thought she was not awake and she learned the harsh realities of life from their lips. But that life had been ripped away from her long ago when she had to bury her father and uncles. Now it seems that Fate had determined that she would face the end she had been saved from all those years ago. The cart came to a stop. She snapped out of her thoughts as the thief cried out to the blond, “You’ve got to tell them! We weren’t with you! This is a mistake!”  
She exited the cart and looked around. She realized that they were in Helgen, a small town she would miss if she blinked while riding her now lost horse. She focused her attention on the waiting headsman and the Imperials in front of her. How she loathed the lot of them with every fiber of her being. An Imperial called off names with instructions to approach the block. When the solider read the thief’s name, “Lokir of Rokirstead” he cried out, “No, I’m not a rebel. You can’t do this!” and started to run.  
“Halt!” came the order from the Imperial captain.  
“You’re not going to kill me!”  
“Archers!”  
Suddenly there was the sound of arrows in the air and Lokir dropped, three arrows having hit their mark with deadly accuracy. The captain looked at the condemned and asked, “Anyone else feel like running?”  
At this point the soldier looked at her, a confused look on his face, he looked at his list again and then at her and says, “Wait. You there… Who are you?”  
She held her head high and in a strong voice replied, “Raveena of Markarth,” but barely heard the Imperial’s “You picked a bad time to come home, kinsman.” She heard him tell her to follow the captain and turned on her heel, slightly sneering as she did.  
The general was addressing the Windhelm jarl, “Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn’t use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp the throne.”  
The jarl seemed to have some harsh words for the general, but the gag only muffled his words, the eyes though, they spoke volumes. Raveena wondered what those angry words might have been but from the rumors of rebellion she had been hearing since her return to Skyrim she had a good idea of what they had been.  
“You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace.”  
A loud roar was heard, the Imperial solider saying, “What was that?” Ravenna saw different people look around, but not many. The general merely stated, “It’s nothing. Carry on.”  
Raveena watched as a priestess of Arkay began giving last rites. While she was in no hurry to have her head loosed from her body, she found the last rites dragging out the inevitable. Somewhat shocked she watched a Stormcloak walk to the block grumping, “For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with.” The priestess, resigned, walked away saying, “As you wish.”  
The Stormcloak, proud as he faced his death, spat out, “Come on, I haven’t got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?”  
There was a whoosh as the axe came down, a spray of blood, and his head fell from his body, which was kicked aside.  
“You Imperial bastards!” cried a female Stormcloak.  
“Justice!” cried a Helgen resident.  
“Death to the Stormcloaks!” came another.  
Ralof, the blonde Nord from the cart, said “As fearless in death as he was in life.”  
Then Raveena heard, “Next, the Nord in rags!” Death was a part of life, one she had outlived by thirty years. She had regrets, who didn’t? But you can only outrun the axe for so long. The sky rumbled again.  
“There it is again. Did you hear that?”  
The captain, irritated, repeated, “I said, next prisoner!”  
Raveena heard the solider say, “To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy.” She felt the foot against her back forcing her down, “Imperial bitch,” she breathed as she offered a quick prayer to Talos.  
Suddenly the sky rumbled for a third time and then, perched atop the tower, Raveena saw it. She could not believe her eyes. “Is that a dragon?!”  
That’s when chaos erupted. She heard the general yell, “What in Oblivion is that?!” amongst a cacophony of voices and roars from this black beast with flames spewing from its mouth. She laid there, head still on the block, frozen more from shock than from fear. “Hey, Raveena! Get up!” yelled Ralof. “Come on, the gods won’t give us another chance!” That spurred her into action. She climbed to her feet and started to run through the rising smoke and flames that licked her fur wrapped feet. She caught sight of Ralof and the jarl near a tower and ran towards them. Ralof pushed Ravenna into the tower and slams the door behind them. Trying to catch her wits, she listened to the men.  
“Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?”  
“Legends don’t burn down villages,” came the throaty voice of the jarl.  
“Up through the tower, let’s go!” Ralof started up the stairs, Raveena two steps behind. As Ralof neared the top of the stairs, the dragon broke through the wall, Ravenna jumped back to avoid the blocks of stone that exploded in front of her. She felt the heat before she saw the flames erupt past her. She looked down to see the jarl watching her, then she continued up the stairs until she stood next to Ralof.  
“See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We’ll follow when we can!”  
Raveena nodded, looked across and judged the distance she had to jump. She took a running leap out the side of the wall and landed with a thud on the floor of the inn. Unfortunately there was no longer stairs in the inn, only a huge hole in the floor. ‘This is going to hurt,’ she thought as she jumped down onto the bottom floor, landing slightly off kilter and feeling pain shoot up her leg from the hard landing. She ran out of the inn, turned the corner of the building and right into the Imperial solider who had been reading the names.  
Seeing Raveena he shouted, “Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way. Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join their defense.”  
“Gods guide you, Hadvar.”  
She followed Hadvar, following his cues all the while looking for her chance to safely escape. She was no fool; she knew that if she stayed with him it was only prolonging her execution. At least with escaping she had a better chance at staying alive as a free woman. Suddenly she saw him.  
“Ralof! You damned traitor! Out of my way!” Hadvar yelled.  
Ralof looked at Hadvar, a glint of daring in his eyes. “We’re escaping, Hadvar. You’re not stopping us this time.”  
“Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde.” Hadvar looked at Raveena. She sneered at him.  
“You! Come on, into the keep!” She ran to Ralof, her chance at survival had arrived. 

#####

The door slammed shut, blocking most of the sounds from outside. Raveena saw the body first. Ralof sighed deeply. “Gunjar, my friend. T’sun has a good fight when you approach.” He turned to Raveena. “Here, let me loose your hands. Take what you need from Gunjar, you need them now.” He untied her chaffed wrists, which she quickly flexed to get the circulation going again.  
“You knew him?” she asked as she stripped the solider of his armor.  
“We trained together, patrolled together often. I knew his family, his sister…” he trailed off. He was examining the doors when he heard voices. “Imperials!”  
Raveena grabbed Gunjar’s weapon, an axe, and stood behind Ralof, waiting. The door opened and Ralof attacked, taking the captain by surprise and Raveena quickly disposing of the soldier. Ralof looked impressed at her skill as he said, “Search him for a key, we need to unlock this door.”  
She nodded and began emptying pockets. She found a bit of coin, a key and she took his sword. “Found it,” she said as she tossed Ralof the key.  
Ralof watched her movements, so deft and agile. ‘She is no mere traveler,’ he thought to himself with slight admiration. He caught the key and unlocked the door.  
“Stormcloaks!” came a surprised shout.  
Ralof and Ravenna sprung into action immediately, sprinting into a charge as they rushed the Imperial soliders, quickly bringing both down within a few swings of their weapons. Raveena instantly looted the bodies while Ralof grabbed some potions before they ventured further down into the keep. They heard sounds of a fight and they lightened their steps until they saw the Stormcloak uniform. They drew their weapons and rushed forward, a battle cry erupting from the depths of Raveena’s gut. It was a torture room.  
“Bastards!” she said through clenched teeth. Her sword sliced through the torturer’s neck, severing the jugular. Blood sprayed across Raveena’s face as it spurted out of the torturer, who instantly clamped his hands on the wound in a vain and desperate attempt to stop his lifeblood from gushing out of his body as he fell to one knee. She stood there a moment, watching him gasping through blood drenched lips. She sheathed her sword, then took the blunt side of her axe and brought it crashing down upon his skull, ending his life quicker than she would have liked. She heard the resounding thud as Ralof brought his axe down upon the assistants head while opening his stomach with the other. The assistant’s intestines, having gotten hooked on the curve of the axe as it had cut across his stomach, spilled out of him and onto the blood stained floor.  
They gave the surviving Stormcloak some potions. “These Imperial dogs need to die,” the newest addition said. “There’s an exit down this path, but Tullius posted guards there.”  
Ralof nodded. They slinked their way through until they came across a cave. Ralof motioned for Raveena to go for the first one, and then he motioned for their companion to rush the other two across the bridge. He counted off three using his fingers and they sprang into action. Raveena brought the axe down onto the unsuspecting soldier’s head; as his body slumped down, she thrust the sword through his ribs, piercing his heart. A pool of blood formed under his body, the sickly sweet smell assaulting Ravenna’s nose, flashing her back to that day in Markarth. As her mind dragged up those memories from her teen years she felt the rush of anger and hatred come rushing back to her as if a dam had broken. She looked over to see her companions finishing off the others and she sprinted over. She grabbed the archer’s bow and grabbed his arrows.  
“Ralof,” the soldier said, “I am going to wait here, in case any of the others...”  
“Aye, good idea, Brigid. Talos be with you.” He looked at Raveena, “Let’s go, if we hurry we can make it to Riverwood. My sister Gerdur will help us.”


	2. To Riverwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena and Ralof journey to Riverwood.

They emerged from the cave, the sun bathing Raveena in its warmth. She started to walk down the incline when Ralof grabbed her arm, dropped into a crouch and pulled her down with him. She was about to protest when she heard it; a low rumble across the sky and then that black beast came into her sight. She watched as it flew off, it’s appetite for destruction sated, but for how long no one knew. Ralof released her arm as he stood. “We should be safe.” They started walking, their thoughts finally able to rest after the ordeal they had just survived. They walked in silence for a few moments then Ralof said, “So, Markarth?”  
Raveena nodded. “That was a long time ago, though.”  
“So where is home?”  
She looked at him and shrugged. “Wherever I lay my head.” He looked at her, bemused. She took on a thoughtful and mournful look then said, “My mother died shortly after she birthed me. My father raised me until he died, then my uncle took me in. He was a wanderer; he traded goods wherever we went. One day he didn’t wake up. I took what I needed and left. He taught me how to survive. I was old enough to make it on my own, been doing so ever since. “  
“Where did you learn to fight?”  
“My father and my uncles were soldiers in the Great War. I learned from them,” she said tersely.  
Ralof looked over at her to see her lips pursed in a thin line and concluded that this was not a topic open for conversation at this time. He took the time now to look at her more closely. Her hair was as red as fire, cut short with small braids hanging by her ears. Her eyes, though, they were as black as pitch. And they seemed cold. She was a little shorter than the average Nord woman and was stocky, but having seen her movements, he knew she was agile and quick on her feet. “You should go to Windhelm and join us.”  
She looked at him. “Why?”  
“Why not? You made it through this. Surely you can handle anything the Legion would throw your way,” he said with a smile.  
“Hmph.”  
They walked in silence for awhile. Occasionally Ralof would point out certain plants along the side of the road. She cocked an eyebrow at him after the latest one, she saw him blush slightly. “I dated a girl who fancied herself an alchemist. She would always ask me to bring her wild flowers and such for her experiments when I was on patrol.”  
“Uh-huh,” Raveena said a chuckle under her breath. She pointed to a plant with purple flowers. “That thistle is good in potions that resist poisons.” She smiled at him.  
It was Ralof’s turn to chuckle. “I guess trading goods taught you a few things as well.”  
“You’d be amazed.”  
Ralof suspected she knew quite a few interesting secrets from traders as well. “What brought you to Darkwater Crossing?”  
“I had some business with Annekke.”  
Again, he felt she was being evasive but instead of asking more, he said, “There’s the mill. Let’s hope no one has come with news from Helgen.”  
She followed Ralof, listened as he told Gerdur and her husband Hod what happened. “Come,” Gerdur said after all was said and done, “get some food in you. But I have a favor to ask of you.”  
Ravenna cocked her eyebrow. “What is that?”  
“Jarl Balgruuf needs to know about Helgen. We need you to tell him, as soon as you can.”  
“I’ll run him the message, Gerdur.”  
#####

An hour later, after changing into an old dress of Gerdur’s, a belly full of stew, and a pack with some supplies courtesy of the woman, Raveena was ready to run to Whiterun. Ralof stood at the door with her. “When you’re done in Whiterun, you should go to Windhelm and talk to Galmar. We can sure use you on our side.” He handed her a small wrapped object. “For your travels, Raveena. Talos be with you.”  
She undid the bindings to see an amulet of Talos. “Thank you, Ralof. Those bastards destroyed the one my father wore. This means…a lot. She reached over and drew the man into a hug. “Talos guide you, Ralof. Until next time…” With that she turned and walked out.


	3. The Return Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ulfric returns to Windhelm with troubled thoughts of dragons.

Chapter 3  
Ulfric gazed at the Palace of the Kings as he walked up the large stone steps. His mood slightly improved upon seeing the familiar stone structure he called home. The events of the past week had him in a foul and contemplative mood. The ambush at Darkwater Crossing had set his thoughts on fire. He had started suspecting that he might have a spy within the ranks and it now appeared that not only was that a very distinct chance but also that the spy was counted amongst his most high ranking men. And then there was Helgen. ‘By the Nine!’ he thought, ‘A dragon!’ He recalled the legends that said that the World-Eater would return with a hunger so strong he would devour the world. Ralof’s question rang in his head, ‘Could the legends be true?’  
There was a rumbling on the winds; something prickled Ulfric’s mind, once again unsettling it. He shook his head as if to toss the feeling aside as he acknowledged the guards at the doors. The doors of the palace thudded shut loudly behind him. He saw his steward jump from his seat at the table and rush towards him. “Jarl Ulfric!”  
“Where’s Galmar?” he took long strides toward his war room. Before Jorlief could answer, his most trusted friend walked out from the room.  
“What in Oblivion happened, Ulfric? What’s this about an ambush?!”  
“Damn Imperials! They were waiting for us at Darkwater Crossing. They knew our plans.” His eyes drew dark with unbridled hatred. “That Thalmor bitch was there, gloating. As was Tullius, the pompous bastard.” He grabbed the bottle of mead from the table, uncorked it and took a long pull off the bottle. “And a damn dragon! Right out of legend!” He took another pull off of the bottle then looked at his long time friend. “There is much to discuss, Galmar. That ambush was no mere coincidence.” He stood and walked to the war table, looking at positions of his men and where the Legion had their ranks. His eyes kept lingering on Whiterun. He needed Balgruuf to choose his side; would he be friend or foe? Such an important position for both sides, but its jarl was as neutral as the Companions housed there. He tapped the map below the unmarked flag on the hold. “Send Vignar a message; find out what the overall attitude is there. Make it a priority.” He stretched and stifled a yawn. He had not slept much after his capture, and especially not since his escape from Helgen. Now that he was back in his castle, sleep was demanding to be granted.  
Galmar took his leave and Ulfric turned to ascend the stairs to his personal quarters. He paused by a window and scanned the skies. He thought he saw the outline of a dragon flying to the south of Windhelm so he stood watching for a sign of attack. After a few minutes he continued to his rooms. The fire in the hearth was still warm. ‘Must reward Jorlief for his foresight of my return tonight,’ he thought to himself as he collapsed onto his bed. He laid back, boots still on and stared at the ceiling. His desire to return Skyrim to the Nords, free of the Empire and their puppet master the Aldmeri Dominion drove his every move; it was the fire in his blood. He cursed the Empire for kneeling before those damn elves, for betraying all that he had fought for and for all the lives they lost in the Great War.  
He slowly drifted off to sleep, the haunted memories of shield siblings lost to the horrors of war, voices echoing in his mind, and the terrors in the recesses of his mind that never went away overcoming him. In his dream now there was a new enemy, with fire red eyes and scales black as pitch, wings beating furiously fanning the flames that erupted from its mouth as it devoured those in his dreams. He didn’t know how to defeat this beast and if he could not find a way to slay it, he would be sentencing his people, no, all of Skyrim to a fate worse than death itself. Yet as the morning sun’s rays peeked into his room, slowly waking the aging jarl, he saw an armored figure in the distance, hidden behind a helmet, wielding a pulsating sword and shield. As the figure advanced, the mighty beast engulfed them in flames.  
Ulfric bolted up in bed, suddenly awake, beads of sweat upon his brow. As the cobwebs of sleep dissipated he heard the whispers in his head, remnants of the dream, pass his own lips, “Dovahkiin.”

By the time Ulfric sat upon his throne he had heard of the dragon attack on the Western Watchtower of Whiterun. When he asked which direction the dragon had flown off, he was not prepared for the answer.  
“Well, my Lord, that’s the thing… the dragon was killed, but not by the soliders. A lone woman brought the beast down, impressive in itself, but what I saw next…”  
“What did you see?” Ulfric was getting frustrated. He did not fail to see the irony that the witness to this dragon slaying was a traveling bard from the Bard’s College. He had probably been composing how to immortalize this account his entire trip to Windhelm.  
“The dragon’s body, sir, it began to glow and ribbons of light embraced her, like a lover wrapping his body around her body until it completely engulfed her. After a moment she let out a mighty shout that knocked the soldiers to their knees! The Dragonborn has arrived!”  
“Dovahkiin,” Ulfric whispered in shock, remembering the word that was upon his lips when he awoke that very morning. The bard started singing “The Dragonborn Comes” but Ulfric barely heard the words. His mind started swirling as he remembered the stories he heard as a child about the Dragonborn, yet the lore escaped him. Did this have something to do with the black beast that nearly devoured him and his men? The two were connected; he knew this in his heart as he tried to recall the stories. “Jorlief, compensate the bard,” he said suddenly as he stood, “dismiss the rest. Have Galmar meet me in the war room.” He strode the length to the war room in a handful of steps. He paced the floor, his thoughts a chaotic jumble. What did this mean, the appearance of dragons, the appearance of the Dragonborn, this war, this could not all be coincidence. He stopped in front of the map, trying to bring his attention to the war at hand. He heard the footfalls of Galmar and looked up just as his second in command and confidant walked in. “A dragon attacked Whiterun’s Western Watchtower,” he said in a flat voice.  
“The city?” asked Galmar.  
“Apparently, fine. The dragon was slain.” He tipped a flag by Whiterun to indicate the now destroyed tower. “Send a scout to assess the situation both at the Watchtower and the city. We will take that into consideration with what we learn from Vignar. Until then, we wait. I want to review reports from all of our posts that have come in recently. I fear we have a spy somewhere in our ranks, Galmar. The Legion has been three steps ahead of us too often as of late to be a coincidence.”  
“If there is, they will taste the cold steel of the headsman axe,” the man grumbled. He eyed his friend with a trained eye. “What else troubles you?”  
Ulfric though a moment, choosing his words carefully. “A dragon; where did that blasted thing come from? There has been no sighting of one for hundreds of years, so much so we thought they were mere stories. And now there is a report of a Dragonborn.” He saw Galmar’s surprised look and nodded, continuing, “At the Watchtower. A traveling bard was just here regaling us with the tale of what he witnessed. We need to find out what the Legion knows about this. We also need to find out more about the dragons themselves. Send someone to the College, have them meet with that librarian there, find out everything we can. Not enough to fight the Empire but now we have dragons to contend with.”  
They finished conferencing and making plans. Galmar sent off his most trusted soliders to gather information. By nightfall he handed Ulfric a stack of communiqués from the men in the field. He saw something haunted in the jarl’s eyes, a shadow of those days Ulfric spoke rarely about. As Ulfric climbed the stairs to his quarters he let his mind retreat to his memories. He had been finding his thoughts returning to his days in the Great War and the months before his capture by the Thalmor. He felt as if there was something he should be remembering but it kept eluding him. Ulfric removed his boots and removed his clothing, leaving on just a thin pair of pants to sleep in. His Nord blood craved the cold air of Windhelm, it made him feel alive. He sat upon his bed, reports next to him. His eyes grew heavy as he read, slowly drifting to sleep tainted with the fiery heat of a dragon seeking to devour all in its path.


	4. Return to Whiterun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena returns to Whiterun after spending months with the Greybeards and contemplates her new path in life.

Raveena walked into town, footsore and weary. Her pack was laden down with supplies, a change of clothes, and a few baubles she had found and had kept a hold of to sell for coin. It had been six months since she walked out of the gates of Whiterun to make the journey up the 7000 Steps to High Hrothgar. She spent those months studying the Way of the Voice, meditating upon this new chapter in the story of her ever changing life. In the twenty years since her father’s passing she had made do by thieving and deceiving; she had honed her skills as a sellsword in Cyrodiil and had dabbled in the arcane arts enough to cast simple spells. Upon her return to the land of her birth she had found herself narrowly escaping an early death yet again, only to be saved by the beast that sought to devour the world. Then she learned she was the Dragonborn and journeyed to High Hrothgar at Jarl Balgruuf’s biding. She had finally realized that this new path in her life was not meant to be spent in seclusion and took her leave of the Greybeards. She had contemplated returning to Riverwood and confronting the innkeeper bitch Delphine who had taken the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller in order to confront her and make her prove she is the Dragonborn. She still toyed with the idea of shouting her through the false panel of her room at the Sleeping Giant Inn. The only thing that Raveena had found she liked about Riverwood was seeing Ralof who was visiting his sister’s house there. They had talked over many bottles of Nord mead, a strong friendship in the works.  
Raveena stopped first at Warmaiden’s to unload some weapons she had taken off of a group of bandits who thought that they had the upper hand on her, an assumption that had cost them quite dearly. Her coin purse was a bit heavier upon leaving even after getting a new steel sword. She decided she would take it up to Dragonsreach and have it enchanted by the court wizard Farengar.  
She rented a room at The Bannered Mare, unloaded her gear in her room, changed into a plain hooded tunic and then made the trek up to Dragonsreach. She acknowledged various people as she made the walk up to the castle. She briefly stood and listened to Heimskr as he preached about Talos. She reached to finger the Amulet of Talos she wore. She felt that it gave her more strength and she said her own prayer to Talos before starting the ascent to Dragonsreach. She wondered where her path would take her now. She couldn’t see herself living in seclusion like the Greybeards; it wasn’t in her to live such a sedentary life. After Papa died she had been filled with vengeance and her “uncle” had gladly continued teaching her how to fight and how to survive. When he had died, she found herself in Riften where she had hooked up with the Thieves Guild for a short bit. She had been a wanderer and her nomadic ways took her all over Skyrim, eventually landing herself in Cyrodiil. She often wondered if her father would be proud of her.  
She walked into Dragonsreach and made her way to the wizard’s quarters. She found him intensely reading a book and she had to say his name twice before dropping the sword on his desk. He jumped slightly in his chair. “Hey! Watch – Raveena!” She smirked at his sudden change of attitude. Before he had found out that she was the Dragonborn he had treated her as if she were some lowly peasant that he could not be bothered with to even speak to. Then he had become entranced with her and wanted to travel with her to High Hrothgar so he could learn even more about the dragons from the monks there. “How it is good to see you! You must tell me of your time with the Greybeards. Please, sit.” He gestured to the chair to the side.  
“Good to see you, too, Farengar,” she said with a slight edge of sarcasm. “I wanted to make use of your services. I’d like to enchant this sword and I’m all out of soul gems. I’m still not that great with the whole enchanting thing either and I would rather someone more trained than I to do this for me. You’re the first person I thought of. See, I discovered this enchantment that will freeze the person or creature when I strike it. Would you do this for me? Price is of no concern to me.” She looked at him with slightly pleading eyes and a small smile on her lips.  
“But of course, Raveena. And for you, no charge.” He picked up the sword and admired it, looking at the fine craftsmanship of the blade and the hilt itself. He set himself to work, idly chatting to Raveena, inquiring about her time with the Greybeards. She answered absentmindedly, looking at the book Farengar had been reading, “Dragon Language: Myth No More”. She had read the book one night at High Hrothgar and she re-read the paragraph in front of her.  
“For as observed the walls I found, I noticed something peculiar about some of the words. It was as if they pulsed with a kind of power, an unknown energy that if unlocked, might be harnessed by the reader. That sounds like nonsense, I know, but if you had stood by these walls – seen their blackness, felt their power – you would understand that of which I speak.”  
She had been told of these words walls, had experienced one before. There was a truth to the walls pulsating with power and she knew firsthand what that power felt like as it poured into her very being. It was almost as powerful as the absorbing of the dragon soul itself. Arngeir had told her to search for these walls in her travels but she did not know where her travels lay and she did not know where she was traveling to, only that she walked alone with her shadow being her only companion. That’s how it had been for the past fourteen years and she did not see it changing just because of her being the Dragonborn.  
She finished her business, bid Farengar a good evening and then headed back to the Bannered Mare. As she sat at the bar she listened to Hulda talk local gossip with some of the patrons. There was the normal Gray-Mane versus Battle-Born arguments and there were a few friendly bouts of throwing drunken fists. She overheard that the Companions were looking for new members; she wondered what kind of camaraderie they had. From the stories she had heard, they were loyal to each other and very protective of each other. Waving Hulda to her, she asked, “I’m looking for work, got any leads?”  
“Well,” the barkeep said reaching beneath the bar, “some of the jarls men brought this by earlier.” She handed Raveena a piece of paper.  
Raveena read the paper, folded it, took the final drink of her wine and stood up. “Well, it’s something. Night, milady.” She plucked a few coins onto the bar and headed up to her room. She’d head out in the morning toward Shearpoint to take down a dragon. 

#####  
That night in Windhelm, Ulfric sat in his room reviewing all the communiqués from his men in the field that had to do with dragon attacks. There was no mention of a Dragonborn but rumors had spread like wildfire after the attack on the western Watchtower at Whiterun. He was still sparring with the Empire, but neither side was gaining much but both were losing dearly. Ulfric knew if he could get the Dragonborn on his side then the tides would change in his favor. But no one knew anything about who the Dragonborn even was.  
And every night Ulfric saw that mighty beast devouring everything he was fighting for; tormenting his dreams. And in the background he could see the figure on the horizon watching and waiting.


	5. Untimely Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena's past comes back to haunt her as she searches for the missing Esbern in the city she at one time called home.

She sat at a table off in the corner at the Bee and Barb, not wanting to be recognized. She had gotten a room upstairs but had been listening to the talk of the locals, trying to see if there was any talk of this Esbern she was suppose to find. Three months after leaving the Greybeards she found herself seeking answers from Delphine. That had led to her infiltrating of the Thalmor Embassy outside of Solitude. She had barely escaped alive and the only thing she had learned was that the elves were looking for a lost member of the Blades somewhere in Riften and she had acquired a couple dossiers including one on Ulfric Stormcloak. When she had returned to Delphine’s and reported what she had discovered, she was told she needed to find this Esbern, a loremaster. She had grudgingly set out that night for Riften. It had been over ten years since she had set foot there and some wounds didn’t need to be revisited.   
She avoided a shakedown at the gates of the city and she had thought to herself about how some things just didn’t change. She had headed straight to the Bee and Barb to rent a room and plot out her next course of action. She had ventured downstairs to eat something and listen to the idle chatter of the patrons but had heard nothing of value to her. She decided she would call it a night and started to stand when she heard the footfalls stop off the side behind her. She had secured her glass dagger along the inner folds of her dress where she could quickly access it and slowly moved to retrieve it.   
“Never done an honest day’s work in your life for all that coin you’re carrying. Eh, lass?”  
She sighed internally and instead of reaching for her dagger she reached for the bottle of wine she had ordered and said, “And you’d know all about an honest day’s work, wouldn’t you, Brynjolf?”   
“You have me at a disadvantage, lass. You know me, but I don’t think I know you.”   
She took a long pull off of the wine bottle, her heart pounding. His voice haunted her dreams, it had echoed in her mind so often in the past fourteen years she could have sworn he had always been by her side like they had promised each other all those years ago before her world had crumbled around her again. ‘You could only run for so long,’ she thought to herself sadly as she pulled her cowl down so he could see her profile. By his quick intake of breath she knew he recognized her. She narrowed her eyes, bracing herself for his next words; she knew that this was not going to end on a good note.   
“Raveena,” he whispered as he took half a step back.   
“Hello, Bryn. It’s been a long time.”   
“I didn’t expect to ever see you again,” he said through clenched teeth. “I could have gone on believing you were dead too.”   
She winced, his words cutting her deeper than any blade ever could. “You would have preferred that, wouldn’t you?” The words left her mouth before she could stop them.   
"You might as well have died with her! You ran off not even a day after we put her in the ground,” he hissed.   
“What do you want me to say, Bryn? I was hurting-“   
“You were selfish!”   
“Yes, I was and I’m sorry,” she said softly through clenched teeth. “But dammit, I was young and I acted foolishly.” She looked up at him, a hint of tears beneath her eyelids.   
“Why are you here, Raveena? To open old wounds?” She could hear the ache in his words and she knew that she was the cause. That fact alone was what had kept her out of Riften for so long.   
“Business," she pointedly replied.   
Brynjolf turned on his heel as he said, “Make it quick. I hope not to see you again.” He started to leave.   
“My business may concern the Guild.”   
He stopped in his tracks and looked at her. “You expect us to help you after what you did?”   
“Bryn – “   
He cut her off as his eyes narrowed and turned cold. “No, Raveena, you won’t get help from me. You closed that door when you walked out on us.” He stalked off. 

#####

She stepped outside in the morning rain, anxious to get this done and return to Riverwood. She had barely slept at all, her mind replaying the events of last night and remembering all the events to what had led to all of the pain inside both hers and Brynjolf’s hearts. Of all people she had to run into it had to have been Brynjolf, the one person she had wanted to avoid the most. The weather seemed to mirror her mood, the overcast sky being the same gloom as in her heart.   
She went to walk towards the meadery and turned straight into the broad chest of Brynjolf. “By the Nine!” she swore under her breath.   
“Just the person I was coming to see,” he said tersely. He took a hold of her arm and guided her toward the gate by The Scorched Hammer. When they would not be overheard he asked, “What business do you have that might concern the Guild?”   
“Oh now you’re going to help me?” She retorted as she yanked her arm back from him. “Thought I didn’t deserve your help after what I did to you all those years ago.”   
“Raveena, don’t tempt me to leave you floundering here. If helping you gets you out of town quicker, then I’ll help.” He crossed his arms in front of him and sternly demanded, “Out with it.”   
“I’m looking for an old guy whose suppose to be somewhere in the Ratway.”   
He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you looking for him?”   
“So he is there,” she stated. “I’ve been sent to get him.”   
“He pays us a lot of coin to keep him hidden, Raveena. We have done a very good job at that too. Why all the sudden interest in him? Some elves were looking for him too earlier.”   
Suddenly Raveena looked alarmed. “Elves? Today?”   
“Yes.” Brynjolf sounded confused and concerned. “Raveena?”   
“I must find him! He’s in danger! I must go. Bring me to him. Now!” she demanded.   
“Come with me. Do I want to know?” They started walking toward the orphanage; she could tell he didn’t want to bring her through the cistern.   
“I really hope you are asking that rhetorically because I don’t plan on answering.” She removed her cloak to reveal she was wearing ebony armor and had a glowing sword on her hip along with a pulsating ebony war axe.   
Brynjolf let out a low whistle as his eyes grew wide at her attire. “Wait a minute, Venna,” he said, calling her the old nickname he had given her as he turned to face her. “What in Oblivion is going on?” They stopped right inside the door leading to the Ratway, Brynjolf looking at her with a mixture of anger and concern, the two warring behind his eyes.   
“You don’t need to know, it doesn’t concern you,” she snapped. “I have to get him and get him to safety. I’m the only one who can do this. The elves, they want him captured. They won’t kill him, but I can’t say the same for me.” She pushed past him. “Any traps I should know about?”   
He went after her. “No, just the same ones that have always been there. And what in Oblivion are you involved in? Why would the elves harm you?”   
She bit back the answer she wanted to give but instead responded, “They’re kind of pissed that I killed some of their buddies at the Embassy when Elenwen had her little soirée.”   
“You killed –“ He stopped short when he realized what she had said. “Wait, the Embassy? Soirée?! Was that you?!” She couldn’t help but give a big, satisfying grin as she remembered the pleasure she experienced as the blood of those elves coated her axe and her sword, absorbing their essence and splaying across her face. Revenge had tasted so sweet that day. “By the Nine, Venna!” was all he could say.   
They walked into the Ragged Flagon where she heard someone say, “Brynjolf, you need to stop bringing your piece of tail down here!”   
The look on Brynjolf’s face quickly silenced her. “Trust me, Vex, she’s not a piece of ass.”   
“Well I’ll be damned,” came Delvin’s voice. “Where have you been, Raveena?”   
“Some things don’t change now do they?” she said. “Nice to see you, Delvin. Sorry, it’s not a social visit.” She stopped long enough to plant a kiss on the man’s head. She followed Bryn down the way to the door that led to the Warrens. He made to walk in with her, but she put her hand on his arm, stopping him. “You stay here. I can handle this, trust me.” She started to open the door then stopped a moment, looking at him. “I’m sorry, I really am, Bryn.”   
He looked down at her, a flicker of the love he once had for her flashing in his eyes before the wall snapped back up. “At least I can give you something you never gave me. Goodbye, Raveena.”   
She watched as he stalked angrily off, hearing the door to the cistern slam behind him. She quickly ventured into the tunnels to get the old man.


	6. A Belated Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brynjolf confronts Raveena about their past.

Three months had passed since Raveena brought Esbern out of the Warrens and to Delphine in Riverwood. She traveled with them to discover the location of Sky Haven Temple, and then returned to High Hrothgar to learn Dragonrend, a shout she would need to defeat Alduin, the World-Eater, who haunted her dreams. As Esbern studied the books, Ravenna ventured out, slaying dragons as they came up. She found herself collecting bounties from all over the land, but many came from the jarl in Riften. The jarl had granted her the title of Thane and she purchased a home near the entrance. She was able to slip in and out of town without notice. She rarely stayed there. She had no reason to. It was late this night. She slipped in, merely nodding to the guard then taking the back way to Honeyside. She unlocked the door and stopped short. There was a fire going in her hearth. She thought her housecarl Iona had left to visit family. She drew her dagger and cast a spell she learned at the College of Winterhold to muffle her steps.   
“You still cannot get the drop on me, Veena,” came the rich timbre of Brynjolf’s voice.   
She sheathed her dagger and walked into her room to find him on her bed, a few bottles of mead on the end table, empty she presumed by the slur in his voice. “What are you doing here, Bryn?” a touch of irritation in her voice.   
“You know, I should be asking you the same question.” He took a drink from the bottle in his hand, looked at the bottle then dropped it on the floor with a thud. He turned his gaze to the redheaded woman before him. “Fourteen years you stayed away from Riften, hell, your name had stopped being uttered just as long. Why’d you have to come back? Did you want to twist that dagger in my heart some more, reminding me of everything I lost?” It seemed as if he spat the last few words out just to spite her.   
“Do we have to do this? Haven’t we moved on?”   
“We looked for you, did you know that?” he continued on, ignoring her. He picked up a bottle from the floor, uncorked it and took a long pull from the bottle. “We searched for months until I said to stop. I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t eating, I was distraught. I was lost. I had just buried Brenna and then I immediately lost you. I never had the chance to heal from the one when I was forced to move on without you.” He took another long pull off the bottle before glaring at her. “So, Raveena,” he spit her name out, “what are you doing here?”   
She looked at him, trying to maintain the wall around her emotions. He was the only man that had ever been able to get around all of her defenses. Even now after all of the years apart he was able to work his way into her mind, into her soul. Her heart cried out at his pain; she knew that pain all too well. Just seeing him was making her face it because she had run away instead of confronting it back then and she knew this. “I…,” she stuttered, “Its business.”   
“Business my ass, Raveena!” He exploded. “ You’re the Thane of Riften and own this house. You come here once a week, sneaking in at night, slipping out whenever you can. During the day you favor the door that leads to the river and at night you will come through the main gate.” His eyes narrowed as he spat out, “Don’t forget, Maul, Maven’s guard dog. Put enough coin in that man’s hand and he’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”   
“Then why are you asking me if you know, Brynjolf?” she cried out exasperatedly. “I’ve collected bounties for Jarl Laila, she appreciates what I’ve done. I’m not a fool; I see the perks to being a thane. The house gives me a place to go and…escape.”   
“Escape. You’re good at that aren’t you?” he snorted as he took another pull off the bottle.   
“Why are you in my home, Brynjolf? To make me pay for my mistakes again? I paid for them, alright? If you can’t forgive me –“   
“I saw you at her grave this morning,” he interrupted.   
She stopped suddenly, her breath caught in her throat. He put a necklace on the bed. She recognized it as the one she had draped on the headstone that very morning, the gold crafted, jewel encrusted butterfly glinting in the light. “She loved the butterflies so…” Raveena’s voice was soft, a hint of sorrow shadowing her words.   
“I have watched over Brenna’s grave every day since we put her there. Even in death I did not abandon her.”   
“I did not abandon her! I held her as she slipped away! Where were you when we were ambushed? Who abandoned who?” She realized that hot tears were pouring down her face but she didn’t care at this moment.   
“So you blame me?” His eyes blazed.   
“You were running at Mercer’s beck and call, hunting down another lead on where Karliah was instead of being where you should have been!” she spat at him, fourteen years of pent up grief boiling over.   
“And you couldn’t wait till I returned so we could go together!”   
“She wanted to go. How could I tell her no? She was my –“   
“She was not just yours, Raveena!” he snapped angrily. After a moment he said softly, “She was my daughter too.”   
She stood there for a moment, suddenly no longer angry, just overwhelmingly sad. She sat on the bed next to him. She hung her head low and tentatively reached for his hand. He turned his hand so he could hold hers in his, the touch of her skin on his stirred her emotions further. “I’m sorry, Bryn, I really am. I shouldn’t have left after we buried Brenna. I should have stayed so we could grieve together. I should have done so much more than what I did and what I did do I shouldn’t have done at all. My head was all messed up. I had to bury yet another member of my family, I couldn’t take anymore death.” She ran her hands through her hair and said so softly he had to strain to hear her. “All I have are excuses; you deserve more than that. The simple truth is that I failed our daughter and I couldn’t face you because I failed you too.” 

He looked at her confused. “That’s why you left? You thought you failed me? How did you fail me? You barely came back alive yourself! I know that if you could have you would have switched places with our daughter. No, you didn’t fail me, Veena,” he said with a sigh. “And here all this time I thought you left because I failed you and our daughter.” He nodded at her shocked look. “Like you said, I was off running around on Mercer’s orders trying to find Karliah on another one of his wild goose chases instead of being with you and Brenna. I blamed myself for her dying. If I had been with you two, I could have protected you both. I thought you blamed me like I had blamed myself.” They sat in silence for a moment, lost in their own thoughts. She looked at him, the man she had given her heart to and she smiled slightly. She had always found it hard to stay mad at him for long. He traced a scar on her arm with his free hand. “I remember how you got this,” he said with a smile of his own.   
“You best damn well better remember!” she slapped his shoulder playfully. “You’re the one who put the damn thing there!” 

He faked anger and said “Me?” He laughed, “You wouldn’t have gotten it if you hadn’t have tried stealing from me when you thought I was asleep,” he chided. He was looking at her now, his eyes smiling as he remembered that night sixteen years previous. She was a wild thing then and it had invigorated him, made him feel alive. He found he was losing himself in her eyes just like he did all those years ago. He reached over and cupped her face, saying, “But I’m glad you did.” He leaned in and gently kissed her lips. She responded willingly, old emotions that once stirred suddenly overcame her. Her fingers wound through his hair as her lips parted, welcoming his darting tongue. She welcomed his enveloping embrace as the years apart melted away.


	7. Joining the War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some months after Raveena and Brynjolf reunite, she journeys to Windhelm and joins the Stormcloaks.

Ulfric sat on his throne, lost in thought. Word had come that the Emperor had been assassinated by the Dark Brotherhood. This was an interesting turn of events, one that he knew he must take advantage of. He noticed a familiar figure walk through his hall, one of the bounty hunters that had been coming to collect her pay quite often from his steward. She was hard to miss in her ebony armor but if she ever walked into his palace without that armor, he’d never know for she never removed her helmet. He could tell that her armor had been made specifically for her; he could see that it was very well fitting for her slightly shorter stature and he saw evidence that it was also enchanted. An ebony sword hung alongside her hip, its scabbard bearing an emblem of Talos engraved upon its fine casing. There was something about her today that made him take more notice than usual; something about her entire presence from her walk to her unseen demeanor. Her poise spoke of her self-confidence and it was demanding attention, specifically from the jarl. He watched as she approached Jorlief; he strained to hear her.   
“Killed that dragon at Bonestrewn Camp. I’m here to collect the bounty.”   
He arched his eyebrow. Did he detect a hint of cockiness in her voice? He thought a moment about the reports he had heard on the dragon that had been terrorizing the area near Bonestrewn Camp. There had been quite a few deaths among his own soliders in attempts to slay the beast. He looked her over again and thought to himself that she could not have been the only one to take down the dragon. He watched as she approached him after taking her coin from Jorlief. She lowered her head and bent her knee in front of his throne saying, “My Lord.”   
He looked upon the armored figure in front of him with a hint of amazement in his eyes. “Only the foolish or courageous approach a jarl without summons… do I know you?”   
“You might say that, Sir,” came the reply.   
He watched as gauntleted hands carefully removed the black helmet; her hair had been braided when he had seen her last a year previous but he would never forget this fiery redheaded Nord he shared a wagon with. She had captivated his attention at Helgen and it seemed that she was able to do that even now. “Ah, yes. Helgen. One of those destined for the chopping block.”   
“Ralof said I should join up with the Stormcloaks. I thought about it. Where do I sign up?”   
“I’m always looking for able fighters. Not everyone can say they made it out of Helgen. Seems we’re all branded villains these days… So long as your criminal past stays in the past, and you fight for me with honor and integrity, we’ll welcome you into our ranks.”   
“As you command, my Jarl.” She bent her knee to him with a hint of a smile playing upon her lips as she emphasized the last words.   
“Talk to Galmar, he’ll get you well on your way to being a Stormcloak.” He watched as she approached Galmar and got her first orders. He thought of her eyes, black as coal that revealed nothing to the meaning behind her impish smile. He had the impression that they might just have their hands full with her and he had a feeling that something had just changed the winds of fate for him. He shook his head slightly, thinking of what her first orders were going to be. He knew Galmar tested the worth of all who want to be a Stormcloak by sending them to Serpentstone Island to kill an ice wraith. She survived Helgen and took down the Bonestrewn Camp dragon; he knew she was a force to reckon with and this was going to be a walk in the park for her. She nodded to Galmar saying she’d return shortly, and then she headed out the palace doors.   
“That one’s a spitfire.” Galmar said as he approached his friend.   
“Yes, I do see that in her.” He looked at the bear of a man to his side to see a look of questioning on his face. “Not just anyone walks away from a dragon attack like the one at Helgen.”   
“Hmph. We’ll see how she fares out there. Spitfire or not, she’s shorter than most.”   
“Have faith in her, Galmar. I feel she will not disappoint.”   
“Hmph.” 

#####  
Ulfric rubbed his temples and looked at Galmar again. “Tell me again why we’re wasting time and dwindling resources chasing a legend. We don’t even know if it exists!”  
The older man sighed; they had been going over this for most of the day. “The jarls are upset. They don’t all support you.”   
“Damn the jarls!” Ulfric said through clenched teeth.  
“They demand the Moot.”   
Ulfric’s eyes blazed as he snapped angrily, “And damn the Moot!” He slammed his fist down on the table in front of him. “We should risk letting those milk drinkers put Torygg’s woman on the throne? She’ll hand Skyrim over to the elves on a silver plate.” His voice was exasperated with the thought of Elisif being named High Queen.   
“All the more reason then,” came Galmar’s response. “The crown would legitimize your claim.”   
Ulfric glared, “A crown doesn’t make a king.”   
“No,” Galmar said, “but this one…”   
“If it exists,” Ulfric interrupted, rubbing his temples again. He was still plagued with those dreams of the attacking dragon, and the figure in the background but now he felt like there were eyes watching him, studying him. He was starting to truly believe that the Daedric Prince Vaermina was tormenting him.   
“It exists. And it’ll be the symbol of the righteousness of our cause. Think about it. The Jagged Crown! It heralds back to a time before jarls and moots. Back to the time when a king was a king because his enemies fell before him and his people rose because they loved him. Skyrim needs that King. You will be that King, Ulfric. You must be.”   
The jarl sighed. “You’re certain you’ve found it?”   
“When have I ever been false with you?”  
He was about to respond when he realized that they weren’t alone in the room. A smile spread across his face as he took notice of the figure in the doorway. He had known that she wouldn’t disappoint. “Fine. I’ll send the Unblooded here with you,” he said with a nod towards Ravenna who now stepped into the room. Galmar merely raised an eyebrow. “Fancy a crawl through a moldering dungeon to see if you can’t stir up Galmar’s Jagged Crown?” She looked at him and shrugged; he allowed a hint of a smile to touch his eyes before turning to Galmar.   
Galmar muttered. “It’ll be there. You’ll see.” 

#####  
“Damn Imperials!” she swore under her breath as she left Korvanjund with the Jagged Crown safely tucked in her pack. Somehow they knew about the Crown. If it weren’t for some quick thinking and her ability to sense others, the Legion might have bested them and gotten to the Crown first. She found her horse where she left him, ever loyal to her. This black steed definitely made up for the one she lost last year because of that damn horse thief Lokir and then some. Astrid had said that Shadowmere was one of them; she had not been deceptive about that at least. She climbed on his back, patted his thick neck and said, “Back to Windhelm.” The horse snorted in understanding and with a nudge of her heels, he galloped toward the city. Her mind raced; she saw Ralof there, a bittersweet reunion. Ever since she had turned away his advances, she felt that their friendship had cooled. She had never intended for him to misunderstand her friendship as anything but platonic. She tried to explain that her heart had belonged to one man and that it would always be his but he felt betrayed.   
She was jolted from her thoughts at the screeching that suddenly filled the air. She felt the air sizzle before she felt the heat. She pulled back on Shadowmere and jumped off grabbing Dawnbreaker from her hip and equipping herself with her ebony shield in time to block the flames that erupted around her. She could see Windhelm standing tall not far ahead; she had to stop the dragon before it attacked the city. She closed her eyes, took a large breath and put all of her energy behind her Shout. “Joor Zah Frul!”   
The dragon was hit squarely upon its chest, the visible fight beginning. Dragonrend forced the ancient dragon to the ground, the dragon struggling against gravity. Raveena watched as it careened onto the earth, landing with a thud that shook the soil beneath her feet. She took off towards the beast at a full run, slashing the beast’s stomach, her blade finding its way between scales. She could smell singed flesh as the Daedric blade burned the beast, making the dragon howl in pain. It kept trying to snatch her it its jaws but her quick footedness always kept her safe. She saw the dragon start to shake in its death throes and ran at it, leaping onto its collapsing body and driving her bloodied sword through the skull of the dragon. It started to shudder violently as all brain function came to a screeching halt. She jumped off the body before it crashed onto the ground with such violence it sounded as if it had triggered an avalanche. The snow beneath the body turned a crimson red as the blood poured out of its body and she breathed a sigh of accomplished relief. She suddenly felt the air electrify around her, the hairs on her neck stood up, she felt the power wrap itself around her, permeating her skin, pulsating through her flesh, and then she collapsed upon the snow, spent and then it grew dark.


	8. A Walk in the Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ulfric has his unspoken suspicions about his newest Stormcloak yet finds himself intrigued with her.

Ulfric looked up as heard the commotion at the Palace doors. A soldier was carrying a figure in his arms and was trying to rush forward. “What is the – “ he started to snap until he noticed the fire red hair and the ebony armor. He jumped up from his throne and rushed forward to take her from him. “What happened?” he demanded from the soldier.  
“I don’t know, sir.” He blanched at Ulfric’s glare. “She was like this when I found her! A dragon attacked outside the city. By the time I got there, the dragon was dead and she was unconscious in the snow. There was a lot of blood.”  
“Get Wuunferth,” he ordered. “Now!” He took the unconscious Raveena from the soldier and headed to the living quarters near his. He kicked open the door to the room down from his and laid her on the bed. His deft hands quickly unfastened the buckles on her armor, removing it while looking for evidence of injuries. “What in Talos’ name?” he murmured just as Wuunferth rushed in.  
“My Jarl, I came as soon as I heard…” he trailed off as he saw what had stopped the jarl. “She has no injuries?”  
Raveena started to stir, slowly at first then she bolted up in the bed. Seeing Ulfric and noticing she only wore a thin tunic, she turned red. “What in Oblivion…?!” she breathed as she tried grabbed a hold of the blanket underneath her to cover up.  
Ulfric dismissed everyone and waited for the door to close before he turned to Raveena. He could make out her slender but muscular frame more easily now that she was not hidden beneath armor or cloaks. He could make out a scar on her chest near her heart and shuddered at what should have been a fatal wound. ‘What adventures have you traversed that you bear wounds of a soldier?’ he wondered to himself. Aloud he said, “You were found on the road to the city after a dragon attack, covered in blood. You have no wounds…” his voice trailing off, questioning.  
“I have no explanation for you, my Jarl.” She looked down, then towards the window. He noticed how she shifted her eyes away, and this unsettled him. Sensing the corner she felt herself in, she quickly changed the subject. “My pack! Galmar says you owe him a drink, by the way. The Crown is in my pack.”  
“Well I’ll be damned, the old dog was right,” he said with a laugh in his voice. He chuckled then looked serious at the woman in front of him. Questions started forming in his head; it was evident that she was hiding something and he was determined to discover what it was. He made a swift decision and continued, “I’ll have Jorlief bring your things, but I’d like for you to stay in these quarters for the night and have a healer look at you in the morning; I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”  
“Oh, my Liege, that’s kind of you, but I can stay at – “ she started to protest.  
“That is an order,” Ulfric’s voice was gruff, “not a request.”  
“Yes, my Jarl.” ‘If only you knew you couldn’t hold me no matter how hard you tried,’ she thought to herself.  
“Jorlief will tend to you shortly.” He walked to the door, pausing to look at her once more before taking his leave. Her black eyes seemed to glint with mischief as she weakly smiled in acquiescence. ‘I will find out what you are not telling me,’ he thought to himself. 

#####

Raveena watched Ulfric walk out the door and breathed a sigh of relief. She had only passed out a couple times when taking a soul, each time it was the soul of an ancient dragon, and the soul of an ancient was stronger and much more powerful. She was trying to avoid anyone but the Jarl of Whiterun and Brynjolf finding out that she was the Dragonborn. The less people who knew the less chance the Thalmor would hunt her down. From what she had discovered at the embassy she knew that they were trying to discover the identity of the Dragonborn and she already had a price on her head. At the thought of Brynjolf she debated sending him a message using a courier. Her heart ached as she remembered their last argument, the one where he told her she should leave, to seek fate somewhere other than as the leader of the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood. “Do not deny your destiny, Venna,” he had said, partially in anger, partially in encouragement. “You are meant for so much more than picking pockets or a blade in the dark.”  
“Maybe I don’t want to be known as the Dragonborn!” she had snapped back. “ Maybe I don’t see it as a blessing but as a curse! I hear the talk, whether I’m on Imperial soil or Stormcloak territory. They both want me to fight for them but I, no, the Dragonborn needs to honor the way of the Voice. The Dragonborn does not need to be involved in these politics!”  
“If you were not Dragonborn would you choose a side?” When she looked down he continued, “Follow your heart, lass. Just remember to say goodbye this time.” And he stormed out of her house.  
Raveena felt a tear streak down her cheek at the memory. The rekindled romance with her former lover had cooled but was still quite warm in her heart. There was no denying she still loved him, but the years that they had been apart had changed them both, and their paths had been vastly divided. She wasn’t sure if they could find their way back to each other. A knock brought her out of her memories. “Enter.”  
Jorlief walked in with her pack. “Jarl Ulfric told me to bring this to you. Do you require anything?”  
“I need to bathe,” she said suddenly with a crinkling of her nose. “I smell like a draugr filled dusty tomb and since the jarl wishes for me to remain here I might as well take advantage of his…hospitality.”  
Jorlief tried to hide his smile. In the months that she had been collecting bounties from him he had gotten to know her some from their banter. “Don’t judge the jarl too harshly. He is…concerned.”  
“Hmph.”  
With a chuckle Jorlief stated that he’d have one of the servants come help her with preparing a bath then excused himself. 

#####

 

Raveena stepped into the great hall wearing a dress and a pair of fine leather boots. One of the maids had insisted she put on a dress rather than wear her armor down to eat; she could have sworn she felt all eyes turn to her when she walked in. It was Ulfric who broke the silence. “Welcome, Raveena, won’t you please join us? My chef might not be The Gourmet but he does a fine roasted pheasant.” He motioned towards the bench next to him, a disarming smile playing upon his lips. “Normally Galmar and I would be discussing our next step but I believe a small celebration is in order for the warrior who brought the Jagged Crown back instead.”  
She noticed the seat he motioned to was next to him on the right ‘Keeping an eye on me, are we?” She thought to herself but said aloud, “Thank you, my Jarl. Perhaps then this is a good time to give you this.” She handed him a linen wrapped object then sat down, eyeing the spread of food in front of her. She took a goblet and poured some wine into it and sipped it as she watched the jarl.  
“Ah, this must be the Crown.” He opened the package, revealing the multi-horned crown. “Maw unleashing razor snow, Of dragons from the blue brought down, Births the walking winter’s woe, The High King in his Jagged Crown,” he recited as he looked with admiration upon this treasure, turning it in his hands.  
She nodded then took a plate and started placing meat and bread and cheese on it. “We lost some good men getting that,” Raveena said as she speared a piece of pheasant meat. “The Legion was there when we arrived. But we gave them a good thrashing.” She put a piece meat in her mouth, savoring the taste as the juices dripped down her throat. She looked at Ulfric and said “My compliments to the chef.”  
“I heard that you were the one who delivered most of that thrashing,” he replied with the hint of a smirk playing on his lips and a glint in his eye. At her feigned innocent look he laughed. “Galmar was right. You are a spitfire.”  
She cracked a smile at that. “If you only knew, my Lord.” She took a drink of the wine to avoid his questioning gaze.  
They talked idly through their meal until they saw that the nobles who had been dining when Raveena entered the room were now gone and the servants were cleaning up their empty plates. She had found herself so entranced with the conversation that she had been having with the jarl that she had paid no mind to anyone else there.  
“Feel like a walk?” Ulfric asked as he stood up.  
“I could use the fresh air,” she answered taking his offered hand.  
He took her through the varying passages commenting on different artifacts hung upon the walls or placed on display; his pride over his ancestral home was obvious as he told stories about the palace. They came upon a door which was carved differently than the others throughout the palace, instead of the traditional bear there were flowers and bees etched into the wood. He pushed open the door which exited onto a vast garden and said, “My father had this put in for my mother when they married,” he said in explanation. “She would come out here when the life of being the wife of a jarl was too much for her. She would often sit out here with me as a child and tell me stories. After she died one winter my father shut the garden off from the rest of the castle, lock up the doors, for it was too much for him to have this memory of his one true love when she was no longer with us. When I returned home after the war and he had passed I had the doors unlocked and the garden brought back to its former glory. I come out here to get away from everything in there,” he said as he waved towards the castle. He guided her to a bench, very intricately carved with bears on the back, the same bear that was emblazoned upon his banner. “So what brought you to the back of the wagon that day?”  
“I was meeting up with Annekke at Darkwater Crossing. I had some business to handle with her.” She shrugged and continued, “Purely a ‘being at the wrong place at the wrong time’ situation. Everything was completely legit.”  
“So no criminal past?” he asked, eyebrow cocked.  
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she chuckled. “No, I’ve done what I’ve needed to do to survive.”  
He gave her that; he knew that was the mark of a survivor and fighter. He tilted his head to the side as he looked at her and asked in continuation, “Where is home?”  
“Home?” She laughed but there was no mirth in it. “My childhood home was destroyed by the Forsworn. From that time on, wherever I laid my head became home.”  
“And now? Are the barracks your home now?”  
“For the time being.” They grew quiet for a bit, Ravenna looking at Secunda and Masser high above her. Many nights she had laid under the blanket of stars and let her mind wander. How times had changed since she fled Markarth at the age of 16. She had lost the romantic view she had held as a child of a world ruled by the Legion, which ended when she watched the Empire kneel before the Aldmeri Dominion, when she watched everything her father had fought for be destroyed by fire when the Forsworn had besieged Markarth as he lay dying. Her uncle and she fled toward Riften; she buried him in Folkreath then had continued on to Riften.  
“Continue fighting for me and you will always have a home in Windhelm, “ Ulfric finally said.  
Raveena looked at the jarl with a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “My Jarl, I can’t imagine fighting against you.” She stood. “Thank you for the company. I should retire for the night.”  
He stood. “Yes, it is late. There is much to plan tomorrow.” They walked to the large door and he held it open for her. It was later than they had realized. There were a few sconces burning, making shadows dance along the walls of the passageways. Ulfric glanced at the woman next to him, her fire red hair plaited into a braid, a curly strand defiantly hanging along the side of her face. He could tell she had a scarred past, and he knew she would not delve into it. He sensed she kept a lock on the door that led to her secrets; it intrigued him. ‘What are you hiding?’ he wondered as he found them standing outside the door to her room. He looked down at her and was suddenly struck with a feeling of déjà vu he couldn’t place. He pushed it aside as he said, “Please join me in the war room after you have eaten in the morning. I might have a mission for you.”  
“Of course, my Lord.”  
“Good night, Raveena.” He took her hand and placed a light kiss upon it before turning to leave.  
She shut the door behind her and frowned. “This is not good, Veena,” she mumbled to herself. “I should be fighting dragons out there, not taking sides on this war.” But her heart burned for vengeance. The Empire needed to pay for the lives they cost. But her calling, her fate, was to defeat Alduin. Her own feelings should not come into play.  
She fell into the bed after stripping down to just her undergarments. As she wrapped herself in the warm blanket, she yawned, slowly drifting asleep. As she lost herself to the void of sleep, she saw Brynjolf staring at her, a look of sadness on his face and then she was dreaming. 

#####  
Ulfric’s dreams made for a restless night. He saw the faces of fellow soldiers he fought alongside in the Great War, he saw the faces of his parents. He felt the blows he took in the dreams and he felt the heat from the flames of the dragon that haunted his dreams. And again he saw the lone figure in the distance wielding a sword, taunting the fierce dragon.  
As he woke drenched in sweat he heard the whispers of a child’s voice in his dream, “I’ll fight for you, Ulfric!” followed by heartfelt guffaws of embattled men.


	9. The Dragonborn Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ulfric discovers Raveena's secret

“Run an axe to Balgruuf. Sure," she gasped. "Easy errand. Sure," she breathed heavily. "As if Balgruuf didn’t eye me suspiciously enough when I handed him Ulfric’s war axe, “ she grumbled as she grasped the handle of her greatsword with both of her hands and brought it crashing into the dragon’s great head penetrating its brain before it’s body started to convulse and collapse as its soul started to envelop her. "Ulfric better appreciate this shit," she mumbled as she jumped off the back of the frost dragon; tendrils of knowledge started tickling her brain and the word of power she had seen earlier suddenly made sense. She stood there for a moment, listening to the sounds of nature around her, waiting for the sensation of her skin being pricked by thousands of little darts to cease. The beast blood that ran through her veins heightened her sense; she was acutely aware of a person’s scent that the winds carried but she could see no one around. She had smelled its fear when the dragon attacked but that fear had been replaced by an excited feeling, one filled with awe and wonder. Once again she scanned the road and the forest beyond, but found no sign of life outside of a few does and their fawn. She gathered her things and set back out for Windhelm, Balgruuf’s answer hanging on her hip. 

#####

The young man walked into the Palace of the Kings and headed straight to the throne, tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment and then said, “Reporting in, Jarl Ulfric.”   
“Come with me,” the jarl said as he strode to the war room. When he was alone with the scout, he asked, “What do you have for me?”   
Weyland looked at his jarl, shifting his weight from foot to foot, unsure how to deliver his report. “Sir, I followed Raveena at a safe distance, as per your orders and I do not believe she was ever aware of my presence. She encountered a few bandits along her way but she dispatched them quickly and effectively. When she arrived in Whiterun she visited various shops, presumably selling wares as she had lifted quite a trove of valuables from the bandits. It appears that she has a home in Whiterun, and there is word that she is a Thane of Whiterun.” He shifted on his feet once more, knowing that what he had to tell Ulfric next was the most important, but would the jarl believe him?   
It was obvious that Weyland was hesitating now and the jarl grew impatient. “What else, boy?” Ulfric’s voice was gruff, edged with irritation.   
“Sir, on the trip back from Whiterun, Raveena encountered a dragon.” He saw Ulfric’s eyes change and the ruler’s stance became more rigid. “I witnessed the entire fight and what I saw…” he voice trailed off.   
“What did you see?” Ulfric feared the redheaded spitfire was now on her way to the Hall of the Dead. He knew she had collected at least one bounty for slaying a dragon yet after she had collapsed coming back from Korvanjund he feared she had met her demise this time.   
The young man looked at his leader dead in the eyes. “The Dragonborn fights for the Stormcloaks, sir.”   
Ulfric stood there for a moment just staring at the man. He thought about how she had evaded answering him about having no wounds, how she made comments that left a million unanswered questions in his own head, her cryptic statements to him about if he only knew. The pieces were falling into place. “Raveena is the Dragonborn?” he finally said.   
“Aye. I saw her take the beast’s soul.”   
Ulfric stood silent for a moment, tossing this new information in his brooding mind. Questions swirled in his mind, possible answers and new strategies. “Do not breathe a word of this to anyone,” he instructed. He picked up a coin bag, looked in it and tossed it to Weyland. There was plenty of coin in it to pay him for his intel and then some to buy his silence. He did not want Tullius to catch wind that the Dragonborn had indeed picked a side in the war and that it was with the rebellion. “Thank you, Weyland. Take this, stay in Windhelm. I might still be in need of your services.”   
“My Jarl.” He nodded and walked out.   
Ulfric went back to his throne and sat, his head held in his hand, thoughts swirling. He chuckled at the circumstances. He had been taking heavy losses in the past year, not that Tullius hadn’t been, but he had started to worry that his army was growing weak. With the Dragonborn having sided with the Stormcloaks he could see the winds of war shifting in his favor. Oh what he would give to be a fly on the wall when Tullius discovered that the Dragonborn flew the banner of the Stormcloaks. He felt empowered by this new knowledge and was more than ready to use this to his advantage. Yet he still pondered why Raveena was not forthcoming of who she was. His head snapped up when he heard the palace door slam shut. He gazed upon the redheaded Nord in ebony armor, a smile escaping his control. The Dragonborn. Fighting amongst his ranks. The Divines surely smiled upon this and surely Talos had given him this blessing, for why else would she be a Stormcloak? “Raveena, I trust all went well?”   
“My Liege,” she said with a slight bow of her head. “Your axe,” she said as she returned it.   
“Foolish man,” Ulfric growled as he took the axe. “Then we shall take Whiterun by force.” He sighed heavily, and then looked at the woman in front of him. He had been intent on finding out who the Dragonborn was so he could persuade them to fight for him; he had not given thought to the fact that the legendary hero would have already aligned themselves with him. He wanted her continuing loyalty to his cause and he was prepared to do whatever it took to ensure her allegiance. “I understand you helped with the catching of the Butcher. My city owes you its thanks. There is room in my court for me to bestow the title of Thane to you, if you’d be interested?”   
Raveena arched her eyebrow. She was already thane in a number of cities, what was one more? “I would be honored, Jarl Ulfric.”   
He smiled, a plan forming in his mind. “Good. I’ll see that the guards are made aware of your new title, wouldn’t want them to think that you’re part of the common rabble now, would we?” His eyes gleamed as he watched her reactions. “Also, speak to Jorlief about purchasing a home here. A thane deserves her privacy, does she not? “   
“Jorlief mentioned Hjerim was cleaned up and was available. I will speak to him. Thank you, again, my Jarl. Will you in need of my services any longer today? It was a long journey back from Whiterun.”   
“Your services, no, not today. Your company on the other hand, would be greatly welcomed tonight at the evening meal.”   
“By your command, then.” She started to turn to walk away.   
“Raveena,” he stated, stopping her. He stepped down from his throne and stood by her. He towered over her, her head just coming above his shoulders. Not for the first time he thought about how her size did not inhibit her from being an effective fighter, especially now knowing her secret. “It is not a command, but a request.”   
“Do you treat all new recruits this way?” she asked lightly.   
“Only the ones that impress me.” As he looked at her, he noticed the ebony of her eyes, the same shade as the dragon from Helgen. He wondered about the coincidence of that. A smile played upon his lips despite himself. Now that he knew this secret of hers he felt renewed. His mind tumbled with all of the possibilities opening up for him. He just had to play his cards right. “Tonight then. Go, rest. And remember to speak to Jorlief.” 

#####

They sat on the bench in his mother’s garden after they ate. She spoke of her wanderings and told stories of her exploits that left him laughing. The alto wine in her goblet loosened her tongue some he noticed and was only too willing to keep it pouring for her. He found himself entranced with her words; they sucked him into her memories and he felt the emotion behind them. He knew she would be the game changer in his war, he just needed to draw the Dragonborn to the forefront; he needed to solidify her loyalty to him and his cause. “Tell me, Raveena, why did you choose to fight for me?”   
“Fight for you?” She shook her head as she chuckled. “I fight for Skyrim. The Empire has given us nothing but empty promises since they signed that blasted White-Gold Concordant. We have blindly followed what they have told us only to be led to Oblivion. You just happen to be leading that fight, my Lord.”   
She spoke from a well of pain deep within her and realization hit him. “They took something from you.” A tear escaped her eye and streaked down her cheek. He gently wiped it away with his thumb. “You have noble reasons to fight the Empire, Raveena. I’m glad it’s under my banner. Continue to fight alongside your fellow Stormcloaks and I promise you, you will have the revenge you desire.”   
His eyes were soft as she looked at him. Emotions tore at her stomach. She was busy trying to find herself, her place in this embattled world. She felt so alone, she missed Brynjolf’s comforting embrace but he was so far from here, and their relationship wasn’t on solid ground any longer. “Maybe one day I will find a way to move beyond all of that. I’m a Stormcloak now; I’m no longer fighting my battle alone.”   
“You will never fight alone again as long as I have something to say about it,” he said right before he brushed his lips on hers, testing the water.   
Startled for a brief moment, Raveena found herself leaning into his kiss. She tasted the mead on his own lips and found herself drunk on the sweetness of it. She felt herself losing control, she might give herself to him if he asked her to. A clear thought shot through her brain and she suddenly broke the kiss and stood. “I can’t,” was all she said as she rushed back into the palace, heat enflaming her cheeks, leaving a confused jarl in her wake.   
She rushed to her new home. There were crates of furnishings she would have to put up with the help of Calder, her housecarl. She stumbled through the maze of crates to the stairs that led her upstairs. She was thankful she had her room set up first as she collapsed upon her bed. It was a moment before she realized someone was in the room with her. She sat up suddenly, reaching for the ebony dagger hidden in the folds of her dress.   
“You don’t need that, lass.”   
Raveena’s eyes grew large at the sound of her lover’s voice. “Bryn?! How… why…what…?” she trailed off.   
“Cat got your tongue, Veena, or is it a bear that has it?” His voice was hard, the way it was when they first talked in the Bee and Barb all those months ago.   
“How long have you been here?”   
“Well, this time I’ve been in Windhelm since this morning. I’ve been waiting for you to return to your new home.   
“This time?!”   
“I was going to surprise you but you were busy fancying yourself up.” His eyes turned as cold as his voice. “I had thought I was foolish for driving you away. I came to bring you home, to our bed but I see you warm another’s now.”   
“Now wait a damn minute, Brynjolf!” Her black eyes blazed as she turned on him. “Who warms your bed? Do not think I have not heard about your tumble in the sheets with Maven’s daughter!” She glared at him as he shifted his gaze.   
“I was –“   
“I don’t care, Bryn! How dare you accuse me of lying with another when I have lain with only you!”   
“I saw you and the would be High King out in that garden, do not lie to me, Raveena.”   
It clicked in her head, his words and his accusation. “You’re spying on me!” She yelled at him. She felt the power rising inside of her core being as she stood and slowly advanced on him. She wanted to shout him out the window. “I want you to leave, Brynjolf.”   
“I was just getting ready to.” He stalked to the door of her room and looked at her. “I don’t know what happened to you, but you’re not the same woman I fell in love with.” He tossed something onto the bed by her and walked out.   
She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry. How long had he followed her? Why was he following her? Why was he here and not in Riften? She pulled her dress off and went to fling it on her bed when she saw it. The dress slipped out of her fingers and fell onto the floor. Her hand fluttered to her mouth as a gasp escaped her.   
Looking up at her was an amulet of Mara.


	10. A Secret Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ulfric confronts Raveena about being the Dragonborn.

Ulfric was poring over reports for the umpteenth time, his attention distracted by the absence of Raveena. The sun was at its zenith of the day and he was getting angrier by the minute. He cursed himself for kissing her. While he had toyed with the idea of seducing her to secure her loyalty to him, he had not consigned himself to that plan. He definitely had not intended for her words to touch him the way they did and he had found himself acting on instinct, an instinct he had not been aware of.   
He set the missives back on the table and rubbed his blurry eyes. “How many times am I going to read these damn things before I pay attention to what they even say?” he muttered to himself. He looked at the bowl of stew that his steward had brought him earlier. No longer seeing the steam roll off of it and not particularly hungry, he decided a walk was in order.   
He ventured out of the palace doors thinking he would go to the Temple of Talos and seek guidance, but found his footsteps taking him beyond the temple. His mind was full of jumbled thoughts and he needed to sort them out. He felt conflicted in ways he had never been before. He found this unnerving and an unnecessary distraction. He found himself in front of the door to Hjerim. He took a deep breath and knocked. A moment later the door opened to reveal Calder, the housecarl he had assigned to Raveena. “Is the Thane here?” he asked.   
“Yes, Jarl Ulfric. She is in her bed. She was not feeling well during the night.”   
“Hmmm, I need to speak with her.” He waved Calder off, indicating he should remain downstairs. “Raveena,” he called out as he strode up the stairs, “sick or not, I will not tolerate insubordination from anyone.” ‘Even if they are the Dragonborn,’ he added silently. He heard scuffling on the floorboards as he approached the main bedroom and walked in to find a half naked Raveena who stared at him with unbridled anger. He stopped short as he gazed upon her, a thin sheered gown accentuating the curves of her body.   
“Jarl or not, do not think that a kiss grants you access to my bedroom!” she hissed through clenched teeth as she pulled her Stormcloak cuirass over her head, then reached for her ebony dagger.   
Ulfric’s hand clamped down on hers before she was able to pick up the dagger. He looked her in the eyes and countered, “Do not think a kiss affords you laxness with your job as a soldier of mine!”   
She glared at him, her dark eyes a swirling abyss. ‘I could Shout you right through that doorway, you pompous bastard,’ she thought to herself. “Don’t flatter yourself, my Liege,” She put a sarcastic tone to the title liege. “I would never be so presumptuous to think that you would grant leeway to anyone but yourself.” She pulled her hand away as she said, “I merely overslept, my Lord. My night did not end when I left the palace.”   
It was then that he focused on the redness of her eyes from crying. He noticed the dried tears that had streaked the cheek coloring she had dusted upon them the night before. He raised his hand and ran his thumb along her cheek. “What caused this?”   
She turned her head. “People do have a life outside of fighting the Empire, you know.” She walked over to her water basin and scrubbed her face.   
“If that life interferes with how my soliders act, they need to re-evaluate it before the Empire takes it from them,” he rumbled, his anger slowly subsiding. “What troubles you, Raveena?”   
She pulled her boots on before looking at him. “What does it matter? It is my problem and I will handle it when the time is right. I have more important things to deal with right now.”   
He eyed her intently and realized she had more than just the Dragonborn secret weighing on her mind. Normally he would push for an answer, but he relented, why he wasn’t even sure. “Fine, Raveena. As long as you put this war before any frivolous adventure.”   
“It’s far from frivolous and by no means is it an adventure,” she snapped. She walked by him to leave the room.   
As he turned to follow, his eye caught sigh of a large amulet on her dresser. He stopped short and reached for Mara’s amulet. “You seek marriage?” he asked bewildered.   
There was a resigned sigh as Ravenna looked at him. Her face was soft with sadness as she said, “No, but someone was. They changed their mind.” She turned and continued on saying, “Shall we go to the palace? Or do you want to discuss my private life?”   
He put the amulet back and caught up with her before she started down the stairs, grabbing her shoulder and turning her to face him. “I am not your enemy, Raveena. If anything I am the one who will direct you in your quest of revenge against the Empire.”   
“You think you can direct me?” she spat. “You don’t even know me, my Liege. All I am is the poor unfortunate soul who shared a wagon with you to the chopping block at Helgen who managed to escape thanks to one of your men. You know nothing of my life!” Her eyes narrowed as she fought to not let her primal instincts take over, she could feel the power building in her throat, the Thu’um burning to escape.  
Ulfric smiled at her and it chilled her bones. “I know more than you think I do, Raveena.” He reached up, entwined his fingers in her hair and pulled her to him, bringing his lips to hers, possessing her. She yielded to him nearly immediately but was left gasping for breath when he broke the kiss. “I can taste the power of your Thu’um on your lips, Dragonborn,” he growled against her cheek. Her eyes widened as she gasped. Ulfric smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Yes, my little spitfire, I know your secret. This one at least. How long do you think you can keep it a secret from the Empire or even the Alteri Dominion?”   
“Not much longer evidently. You’re not the only one to figure it out and it’s only a matter of time before Balgruuf tells Tullius.”   
“Balgruuf knows? You let him know but not me, your commander?” His voice had a sharp edge to it and suddenly he felt a surge of emotion run through him. Why did this anger him so? He let go of her and stepped back.  
“He’s the one who told me to go to the Greybeards when they summoned me. I was at Whiterun-“   
“The Watchtower yes, I recall hearing the reports.” He looked at her again, realized he was still standing close enough to smell the lavender in her hair. It was intoxicating to him and had to step back again before he let it control him. “Is he aware of you joining the Stormcloaks?”   
“No, but I’m sure he’s got his suspicions, especially after running your axe to him,” she said pointedly.   
He looked at her and responded back with, “Well if I had known beforehand that you were the Dragonborn as well as the thane of Whiterun I wouldn’t have sent you but someone else.”   
She looked at him in shock. “You just found out that I’m the Dragonborn?”   
“I sent a scout out behind you on that mission. He observed you killing a dragon and taking its soul. He was paid a rather handsome price to keep your secret.”   
“I fucking knew it! I knew I was being followed, dammit! “ She glared at the jarl. “Who else knows? Galmar?”   
He shook his head, “Only the scout and I. Though I would enjoy seeing Tullius’s reaction when he finds out that the Dragonborn is a Stormcloak.”   
“I would’ve hoped that my killing the Emperor would have told the Empire whose side the Dragonborn had chosen.”   
Ulfric’s eyebrows shot up. “Rumor has it that was the Dark Brotherhood.” His voice was more askance than anything.   
She laughed and smiled at him. “I’m a woman of many talents, my Liege.”   
“What else do I need to know about you?” he grumbled.   
She found herself chuckling. “I thought you knew more about me than I realized?” At his glare she reassured him, “Not very trusting, are we? Would you feel more at ease if you knew that I’m the one who infiltrated Elenwen’s party and killed quite a few of her lackeys?”   
He started laughing at that. “You’re the one who blackened the Thalmor’s eye?! You must tell me the story of that one. I wish I could have seen the look on that bitch’s face when she realized what was happening.”   
“I just want to force her to deep throat my sword,” she mumbled.   
Ulfric looked at her again, wondering what birthed her hatred but decided he’d leave it for now. He took her shoulders and said, “You will have your day. But until then, we must fight this war. Continue fighting for me, for Skyrim, and I will send my troops behind you every step of the way.” He took her chin and titled it up so he could look into her eyes. “We shall take Skyrim back. Together.”   
“And then, once Skyrim is free of the Empire and the Thalmor?”   
His eyes smiled. “We’ll just have to wait and see now, won’t we?”


	11. Announcing the Dragonborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena takes part in the siege of Whiterun.

Raveena sat in the chair in the war room as Ulfric and Galmar discussed their next moves toward Whiterun, nonchalantly eating an apple. They had been at this for hours today and they had been doing this for nearly a week; she was getting restless. Ever since her talk with Ulfric she discovered that she was being included in more and more of these discussions, much to Galmar’s confusion. She gave as much input as she could as a citizen of Whiterun, though she hesitated to let them know that she was the Harbinger of the Companions as well as being thane. “Whiterun is only a means to an end.” Ulfric said as he looked at Raveena. He was well aware of her hesitation of striking the city. She shrugged in apparent reluctant acceptance.  
“I’ve toured our camps. We’re ready, Ulfric. Whenever you are,” stated the burly general.  
“Is any man ever ready to give the order that will mean the deaths of many?”  
“No. But neither is every man able to give that order when he must. But you are that man, Ulfric. You’ve been that man before, and you’ll be him again. And these men and women – they call themselves Stormcloaks because they believe in you… They’re the meanest, toughest sons of bitches Skyrim has to offer. And they want this. They want this as much as you do. Perhaps they want it more.”  
Ulfric looked at Galmar, his face determined. “You’re certain we’re ready? Whiterun’s army will no doubt be bolstered with Legionnaires. And those walls around Whiterun are old, but they still stand.”  
“We’re ready. And I might be old myself, but I’ll kick those damn walls down with my bare feet! – if you would only ask me to do it!”  
He tried to stifle a laugh and continued, “And I’m sure you could do it, too. Alright. This is it.”  
Raveena stood up and stretched. “About damn time,” she mumbled under her breath. Ulfric shot her a glare and she took another bite of her apple.  
“Send the word. ‘A new day is dawning and the sun rises over Whiterun.’”  
“Aye, and the sons of Skyrim will greet that dawn teeth and swords flashing.”  
“So it begins.” He watched Galmar leave the room then turned to Raveena. “Make haste to our camp in Whiterun. I want you on the front lines. Your place is on the battlefield and I need you there. Raveena,” he said looking in her eyes sternly, “do not be afraid to use any means necessary.”  
She nodded, already knowing that he would exploit her being the Dragonborn. “Understood, my Liege.”  
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Talos be with you, little spit-fire.”  
“One of these days I’ll show you what a ‘little’ spitfire I really am,” she chuckled then walked out. 

#####  
Shadowmere did not like being told to stay away from Whiterun, neighing in protest. Raveena gave him a carrot which gave him pause. He snorted then chomped on the carrot. “I’ll be safe.” She walked towards the rest of the men who were listening to Galmar’s rallying speech. She watched as balls of fire were catapulted over the walls and she cringed. ‘My house better be safe. I hope Lydia secured it and is remaining inside.’ Galmar instructed her to bring down the drawbridge. Obviously Ulfric had given the order for her to be on the front lines to Galmar as well. ‘Yeah, no pressure there. If I were to use a Thu’um, they’d see me shouting. Any means possible, eh Ulfric? Alright, you got it.’  
On Galmar’s order they took off. She broke aside to scramble upside part of the wall she had discovered was perfect for breaching the city’s defenses. Once on top, she made her way to the trestle that housed the levers for the drawbridge. She pulled the lever before the Legion officer ever saw her. “Shh,” she whispered as she winked at him with a smirk on her lips then plunged her poison tipped dagger into his heart. He fell over onto the collapsed drawbridge in front of Galmar who had just made his way to the open bridge. He grinned up at her then shouted, “For Skyrim!” as the Stormcloak forces rushed forward.  
She stood, looked to the heavens, gathered all the power within her and Shouted, “Strun!”  
Almost instantly the sky darkened, clouds gathered overhead, lighting arced through the sky and a downpour of rain was released upon them. She saw all the eyes of her fellow Stormcloaks look up at her, wide with shock and surprise. “Shor’s Balls!” Galmar yelled. “A little warning next time would be appreciated!”  
Raveena strode next to him. “Why? So the Dragonborn can miss the looks on all of your faces?” She clapped Galmar on his shoulder and said as she put on her ebony helmet, “Let’s do this, shall we?”  
“You heard the Dragonborn, men!” he shouted out. “Let’s do this!”  
They shouted in unison as they pushed through the gates and advanced forward. She noticed her house was still standing and appeared undamaged. She ran up towards Dragonsreach, an ebony shield upon her arm with an ebony sword in her hand. She blocked several blows and parried many blades. Her feet flitting in an elegant dance of swords, one that struck a chord of recognition in Galmar, but one he could not place. She advanced through the barrage of Legionnaires with such ease and grace it almost felt as if it had been choreographed. Soon they found themselves at the bottom of the steps to Dragonsreach. Raveena readied herself for her next shout. She steeled herself and looked at Galmar. “Stay behind me until we get inside.”  
A gleam appeared in his eye. “I like the way you think, Raveena. Do your thing.”  
They rushed the steps with Raveena gliding through just as easily as she had before, deflecting blows as if she were swatting flies until she had a clear path to the doors. She drew a deep breath and Shouted, “Fus Ro Dah!” The doors flew open and she led the charge in.  
It was a rush of chaos, she saw Whiterun guards rush the doors alongside Legionnaires. The sounds of swords cracking against shields echoed through the room as she fought her way towards the throne. She saw Irileth rush towards her from the side but as she turned to send her own sword crashing down upon the elf’s head, she saw Ralof strike her from behind. Raveena continued pushing forward until she found herself exchanging blows with Balgruuf himself. He blocked several of her blows until she took him by surprise and while blocking one of his own thrusts, she spun around was able to strike him with such force with her blade across his back that he dropped his own sword.  
“Enough! I surrender!” He held his hand up, his breathing coming heavy and hard. There was a fierce look in his eyes but it could not hide the agony of defeat.  
“Balgruuf!” came a voice from the doors. Ravenna turned as she removed her helmet to see Vignar Gray-Mane walking towards them.  
“Vignar Gray-Mane! Your family was noticeably absent from the walls. Now I know why. Wouldn’t a dagger in the back have sufficed?”  
“You think this is personal? The Empire has no place in Skyrim...not anymore. And you? You have no place in Whiterun anymore.”  
Raveena listened to them bicker back and forth until Galmar growled, “Enough! Both of you! There is a burning city out there that needs a government.”  
Vignar nodded saying, “He’s right. Galmar, let us restore order.” He started to walk towards the throne.  
“This isn’t over. You hear me, you old fool! This isn’t over!” Balgruuf’s eyes were blazing as he looked at Raveena. “And you. A Stormcloak? I’d thought better of you. You’ll all come to regret this day!”  
Raveena’s eyes narrowed and angrily advanced on Balgruuf before Galmar’s hand appeared on her shoulder, a slight grip to it. “And I expected a jarl to do what is best for his people like a true Nord would, not bend their knees to the elf influenced Empire like a spineless milk-drinker,” she spat at him.  
“Easy spitfire. “ Galmar chuckled at her as he walked with her towards the entrance of the palace. “Well at least Ulfric doesn’t need to worry about what side the Dragonborn is taking.”  
“He stopped worrying about that already, Galmar. Sorry, you were just out of the loop.” She clapped him on the shoulder with a laugh.  
He snorted and then smiled. “I should have guessed with the way you two have been bickering with each other back and forth the past week. The winds of war have shifted in our favor. I’m not going to argue that. Now get your ass back to Windhelm and tell Ulfric of our victory!”  
She nodded and headed toward the doors of the palace when she saw Ralof by the door wearing a huge grin. “I think I killed more than you, I was counting.”  
She laughed. “Yeah, but who brought the storm?” She smiled at him, hoping they’d be friends again. “Are you staying here?”  
“I’m supposed to help with restoring order.”  
Raveena nodded and said, “Find Lydia, she’s my housecarl. Tell her you are my friend from Helgen. She’ll put you up in my house and help with any of your needs. As for me, I must report in to Ulfric.” She walked out to find the sun shining again and smiled at the memory of the sound of silence that rippled through both sides when she shouted the storm. Last time she had used that Shout was when she used it for cover when she assassinated the Emperor. She had slipped on the ship when the sailors and the Emperor’s bodyguards had hurried themselves to battening down the ship. Her enchanted ebony boots of muffling along with an ample supply of some highly expensive potions of invisibility had kept her undiscovered during her entire time on board. She felt a certain pride over that particular contract. It was perfectly planned and executed, all her training from her childhood until then came together to start her on her new path in life, wherever that path would lead her, to Sovngarde or Oblivion, she did not know but she was committed to it now.

#####

Raveena strode past the guards that patrolled the passageways of around the bedchambers of Ulfric and his most trusted. She had removed her gauntlets placing them inside her helmet which she had tucked under her arm as she entered the Palace. She walked up the steps to Ulfric’s door, hoping she would not have to wake him considering the lateness of the hour. She pushed the door open enough to look in and call out, “Jarl Ulfric?” She heard movement and then the door swung open. “Good, I was hoping that I would not have to wake you. May I come in?” She didn’t wait for an answer but walked in past him. She heard the door shut behind her as she sat down in a chair. She sat back, crossed her legs and rested her head on the tip of her index finger, resting her arm on the chair as she watched him watching her.  
“I’m assuming by the glint in your eyes it went well?”  
She smirked. “I accepted Balgruuf’s surrender myself. When I left, Vignar and Galmar were returning order to the city while Balgruuf and his staff were taken into custody. By the way, I think I bruised his ego more than I bruised his body. Damn fool should have known better than to cross swords with me. He didn’t seem too happy that his thane ended up being a Stormcloak.” She chuckled and tilted her head towards the jarl, now fingering the chain her Talos amulet hung on around her neck. “And the men’s morale has probably soared now that they have discovered that the Dragonborn fights alongside them. Expect Galmar to have some words with you on that too.”  
The room echoed with Ulfric’s laughter; he looked at the redhead and shook his head with a smile on his face. “Now that deserves a celebration!” He walked to one of his cabinets, opened it and pulled out a bottle of Colovian Brandy and a pair of goblets. “A bottle of the finest for the lady,” he said with excited gusto as he poured them both a drink . After handing Raveena a goblet he held his up and made a toast, “To the continued success of the Stormcloaks and the Dragonborn. May victory always be ours.”  
She raised hers in agreement. “For Skyrim.” She took a drink of the brandy, letting its warmth spread through her. She sat back, swirling the liquid in the goblet as she chose her next words to the jarl carefully. She looked over at him to see that he had been watching her. “You know that I have my duties as the Dragonborn to deal with as well. I have to fight Alduin or our fight with the Empire is for nothing. As long as we fight amongst ourselves, we only give him more souls to devour in Sovngarde. Alduin must be killed.”  
Ulfric pulled one of his chairs in front of her and sat down. “What must you do to destroy the World-Eater then, Raveena?”  
She took a long drink of the brandy then looked at the jarl in the eyes. “He cannot be defeated in our realm, for he escapes and regains his strength by feasting upon the souls of our honored dead. I have to journey to Sovngarde and slay him there.”  
The jarl’s eyes grew wide and his voice rose, “Are you telling me that you have to die before you even fight him?”  
She shook her head. “No; not from what I understand. I need to talk to Esbern of the Blades and see if he’s discovered how I am to accomplish this trip to Sovngarde.”  
He nodded and said, “Then take care of it. It does me no good to have my best soldier having to go take care of dragons when I need her in the field. All I ask is that you keep me informed. I need your help to liberate Skyrim.”  
“Of course,” she replied as she tipped back her goblet.  
Ulfric’s eyes took on a look of concern as he looked at her. “What worries you, spitfire?”  
She looked at him, allowing her worry and fear show on her face. “What if I can’t defeat Alduin? What if everything I’ve fought for is all for not? What if all the lives I’ve taken is only feeding him? We cannot deny that we have fed that beast with our own appetite for freedom. Will we survive?”  
He reached over and took a hold of her hand. “You are Dovahkiin. I do not envy you that. Your entire life has been leading to this. Don’t fight your destiny, don’t be afraid of the power within you for it’s that power that is going to defeat Alduin and bring you home to us.” He gave her hand a slight squeeze and smiled at her. “Let’s not dwell on that right now, Raveena. Tonight is your night.”  
“My night?” she repeated curiously, her eyebrow cocked.  
“Yes, your night,” he answered putting emphasis on ‘your’. “For you, Dragonborn, won me Whiterun and has shown all of Skyrim who she backs in this war. Let us revel in this moment, for tomorrow we shall return to planning our next move.” He picked up the bottle and poured her more brandy.  
The corner of her mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “Sanguine would definitely approve.” She raised her goblet towards Ulfric in a silent toast. 

#####

Raveena woke the next day in the room down the way from Ulfric’s. The sun shone through the window causing her to cringe in pain. She brought her hand up to shield her eyes cursing herself for drinking so much the previous night as she sat up. She reached over for the pitcher of water and poured some in the goblet next to the ewer. What she’d do for a potion that would sober her up from this hangover. “One of these days I need to learn to say no to Colovian brandy,” she mumbled. She slowly moved towards the wardrobe where she knew there would be something she could wear beside her armor. She saw a tray with bread and an apple on the table along with a vase of fresh picked flowers. She saw a note tucked neatly under the vase and went to read it.  
“Raveena,  
Take your time coming down. You earned this day of rest and relaxation.  
Ulfric.”  
She smiled as she wondered how hung over he was. She didn’t remember much after the third bottle. She slipped on a simple dress from the wardrobe and slipped on a pair of boots. “I need to cut this,” she said aloud as she combed her fingers through her now shoulder length hair.  
“I rather like the longer hair,” she heard Ulfric say from behind her. She turned to see the jarl in the doorway. He continued, “You know, the men have taken to calling you ‘Ice Veins’. I’m assuming they have yet to see the spitfire that I have gotten to know.” A smirk appeared on his face.  
“Ice Veins?” she repeated then shrugged. “Better than Unblooded.”  
He chuckled and said, “Yes, I would agree with you there. I wanted to speak to you privately, Raveena.” He shut the door then motioned for her to sit while he sat in the chair by the table. “While Galmar and I make plans for liberating Skyrim, I have separate orders for you.” He leveled his eyes at her and his voice took on a soft tone. “Prepare yourself for your battle with Alduin. Do what you need to in preparation, talk to this Esbern; go to the Greybeards if you must. I need you on the frontlines fighting the Empire but like you said, it will all be in vain if the souls we take are only feeding that beast. I have the utmost faith in you, spitfire.”  
Slowly she nodded. “I only wish that I had that same faith you have in me. Thank you, Jarl Ulfric.”


	12. Love's Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena and Brynjolf make amends. A very short chapter.

Three months had passed since Whiterun had fallen to the Stormcloaks. Raveena had gone and seen Esbern and learned that she would need to get the help of the Greybeards in learning a shout to trap a dragon within Dragonsreach. Jarl Vignar was more than willing to help since Dragonsreach was designed to house a captured dragon on its back patio. She had spent days practicing her fighting skills and spent many nights focusing on strengthening her use of the Thu’um. She was nearly ready to trap this dragon Odahving, but first there were some loose ends she needed to wrap up.   
She sat at her table at Honeyside anxiously waiting for Iona to return from the market. She wanted to talk to Brynjolf; she wanted to straighten things out with him before she went to her possible death. She held the Amulet of Mara he had left in Windhelm in her hand, finally allowing the weight of the necklace’s meaning hit her. She fingered the butterfly necklace around her throat and thought of the daughter she shared with Brynjolf and wondered once again what her little Brenna would be like today. She jumped when the door opened to reveal the stocky auburn haired man. His eyes were guarded as he looked at her and walked in, shutting the door behind him. He noticed the amulet in her hand and forced himself to look into her eyes. “How can I be of service to you, Guild Master?”   
She briefly closed her eyes. “Oh please, Bryn, drop the act. You never once called Mercer ‘Guild Master’ so don’t even try that shit on me. It’s time I address this whole situation.” She kept turning the amulet over and over in her hand, searching for the right words to say. “I was going to just leave it, let you think what you wanted to think, but my thoughts kept going back to you. I can hear you calling me in my memories. It’s killing me. I don’t know if I should stay and fight for you and me or if I should run away and let you be free of the pain I bring to all I care about. You’re the only person to ever bring me to my knees, my heart just wants you. I can’t stay away from you; you’re the air I breathe, you’re the blood in my veins. I don’t want to fight myself anymore. “  
“Veena… I.“ He stopped, fumbling with his words, and then walked towards her. “I’ve been overreacting, lass. I lost you for 14 years; I don’t want to lose you again.” He kneeled down in front of her and tilted her face towards him. “When I found out about you being the Dragonborn, the fear of losing you to one of those beasts overwhelmed me and I reacted horribly. By shutting you out I would guard myself from that hurt again, or so I thought in my fucked up mind at the time. But then I couldn’t deal with the chance of losing you to a dragon without you knowing how much I love you. I found out you joined up with the Stormcloaks and I went to Windhelm to ask forgiveness. And to prove to you how much I love you I wanted to ask you to be my wife. Then I saw you at the Palace with Ulfric and I lost my mind.”   
“Bryn, there’s only you. What you saw.., all that happened was a jarl drank a bit too much and lost himself in the moment. Nothing more.” She closed her mind to the memory of what Ulfric’s kisses had made her feel and how she had nearly lost herself in his taste. “I am yours and I’d happily pledge my love for you in front of Mara.”   
The emotion that flooded him at that moment was all consuming; he pulled her from her chair as he stood and crushed his lips to hers, his pent up desire enveloping her in a strong loving embrace as he pulled her tightly to his body. He picked her up and carried her to the bed where he laid her down and proceeded to undress her. He trailed his lips down her jaw line, tasted the sweetness of her neck and felt his lust grow heavy with each nibble of her flesh. He quickly undressed himself before running his fingers lightly across her bare chest causing her body to slightly quiver with chills. He continued to trail his fingertips down her ribcage and down her stomach. He felt her pulse quicken with excitement while her breath caught with anticipation. He captured her mouth with his, his tongue darting into hers and completely possessing it. He could feel the throbbing passion grow, consuming his every thought.   
“Bryn,” she gasped clawing at his back, begging him to quench her own growing desire. She tilted her head back and he trailed his lips down her throat. He felt the hunger in her lust filled growl and that sent him over the edge. He plunged himself into her as the fire in the hearth raged, casting shadows of their entwined bodies on the wall.


	13. Unexpected Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena returns to Windhelm where Ulfric learns of her marriage to Brynjolf and makes startling realizations about himself.

Raveena walked into the Palace of the Kings. She had promised Ulfric that she would return as soon as she came back from Riften. She hadn’t even bothered returning to Hjerim first, merely sending Iona over with her pack and instructed her to remain there with Calder until she got back. Ulfric wanted her to help Galmar rescue some Stormcloaks who had been taken prisoner at a couple locations before she returned to Whiterun where she would capture Odahving. If she was to defeat Alduin, she needed to trust his former right hand, something she was very wary of. She approached Ulfric on the throne as she removed the hood on her cloak. She gave a brief nod as she pulled off her gauntlets. “My Liege, “ she said addressing the ruler.  
“Dragonborn,” he replied, his voice light with appreciation. “I have heard tales of you fighting a dragon outside of Riften.”  
She nodded. “Jarl Laila had put out a bounty on a group of bandits which I had taken care of and was settling the matter of the reward. Upon my departure to return here a dragon appeared; a nasty frost dragon. Gave quite the fight for his life but in the end I took his soul.”  
She noticed his eyes narrow slightly as he said, “Good, I need you to meet up with Galmar; he has your orders.” He voice was suddenly flat, a hint of irritation on the edges of his deep timbre. “He will be leaving in the morning so you need to speak to him today. Check in the training yard, he was training new recruits out there earlier today.”  
“As you command.” She turned and walked toward the door that lead down to the soldiers’ quarters which lead to the training yard. She pondered the sudden change to the jarl’s attitude and demeanor but said nothing as stepped outside the Palace onto the training yard and sought out Galmar. 

#####

Ulfric watched Raveena leave then stood, addressing Jorlief. His voice was taut with underlying anger as he said, “Bring only urgent matters to my attention. I’ll be in my quarters.” And with that he walked off. When he saw Raveena enter the hall he had been pleased to see her safe return to his city. He had heard of the dragon attack near Riften and the rumor mill had spread quickly giving credit to the Dragonborn. With each story he heard of her slaying dragons or taking care of some rogue band of bandits he worried more and more for her safety. He knew he needed her to win this war yet he knew that she needed to kill these dragons for the people of Skyrim. Then he had seen the ring of marriage on her finger and he suddenly felt like he had taken a blow to his stomach. He had taken a liking to her in the past months since she had become a Stormcloak. What was it about her that he had taken a liking to he wasn’t sure. Was it the power that she wielded as the Dragonborn or was it something more?  
He had spent time watching her in the training yards from afar, sparring with the men, honing her skills and giving pointers to others. He could see the morale of the men lift whenever she was out there; they trained harder just for the chance to hear words of praise from the Dragonborn or to even spar with her. She seemed unaffected by her living legend status while in public, but he knew differently from their private talks. He had come to rely on her input when discussing tactics and strategies as well as drawing up war plans. He had felt the fire in her eyes when they spoke of putting an end to the Empire’s allegiance to the Alteri Dominion and he could hear the passion in her voice that spoke of the unseen wounds of the Thalmor and she made no effort to disguise her disgust of the Empire.  
He stood at the window in his room looking towards the direction of Hjerim. How many times had they spoken in his mother’s garden with her relating the tales of her exploits across Skyrim that made him feel the rush of adventure? How many times had he walked into the Temple of Talos late at night to find her at the front, kneeled down in reverent prayer to the man turned god? Her faith was strong, something that moved him in ways he had never been moved before. He remembered the scent of the lavender in her hair and he could taste of the sweetness of her wine laced lips; he thought of how quickly she had yielded to him when he kissed her in her home and how hard it had been to break the kiss because of it. He realized how alone he felt when she wasn’t around, whether she was at Hjerim or off on a dragon slaying adventure and he longed for her return and her companionship. His reaction surprised him and it threw him completely off balance.  
There was a knock at that door that brought Ulfric out of his thoughts. “What?” he growled as he spun on his heel only to stop when he saw Raveena in his door way.  
She looked at him with an arched eyebrow, continuing cautiously, “My apologies, Jarl Ulfric. Should I return at a later time?”  
He sighed and immediately regretted the action as his nostrils were filled with the tantalizing smell of that very lavender he remembered; the scent played upon his feelings. Fighting those feelings he tersely replied, “No. What can I do for you?”  
She stayed where she was and replied, “I’ll be heading out in two days time to meet up with and assist Galmar in taking over Fort Sungard over in the Reach. We have some men held prisoner there, the liberation of the fort ensures their rescue.”  
He nodded in understanding. “I have the utmost faith in you that this will be a successful maneuver.” He picked up a goblet and filled it with water from the jug on his dresser. “You are not leaving with Galmar in the morning?”  
“No, I have a piece of business I need to take care of here tomorrow for the Guild.”  
“The Guild?” he repeated, looking at her with masked eyes. “Have you joined ranks with the thieves as well as being part of the Dark Brotherhood?”  
She stepped inside his room and shut the door behind her before continuing, “I told you I have a life outside of this,” her voice suddenly taking an edge to it as she waved her hand to indicate she meant the war. “If you must know, my Liege,” she hissed putting emphasis on ‘liege’ as she had done before, “ I am the Guildmaster and the Brotherhood answers to me. It has been that way since before I donned the Stormcloak uniform and it’s not going to change just because I have. As I have said before, I am a woman of many talents.” Ulfric stared at her for a moment, his thoughts churning between admiration and great disdain. He suddenly realized that she was a good soldier because she had already been trained in ways that prepared her for it. Her being able to step in and out of the enemy’s camps doing reconnaissance missions and gathering intel on Imperial movements without detection, it was more than her bottles of invisibility potions and magic tricks to muffle her steps. She learned stealth skills because she was an assassin and a thief, not just as a matter of survival as he had presumed.  
“Sir,” she started slowly after a moment of uncomfortable silence, “you think that this life of fighting is new to me? Did you think that I was some woman who has played the meek role all of these years? My mother died when I was a babe. My father was an Imperial soldier and I was raised by him and his shield brothers. I learned how to swing a blade before I reached his hip. I learned how to mix poisons when other girls were learning how to make bread. My life has been nothing but preparation for this!”  
“Preparation for what?” Ulfric advanced on her, his eyes heated.  
She leveled her eyes at him and replied, “Even before you became the Jarl of Windhelm you had a following of soldiers who swore an allegiance to you. My father believed that the true Nords would rise up against the Empire and he preached that just as fervently as he preached the stories of Talos to me all his days. He wanted me to fight the Empire when the time came. It was his dying wish so that all that we lost would be avenged. All that I’ve done has been to prepare for this fight, this Great Uprising.”  
He looked at her, suddenly very contemplative. “Very few know of those soldiers who swore that allegiance to me. Most of them are dead by the blades of the Thalmor.”  
“But not all. My father died by a poisoned Forsworn arrow.”  
He narrowed his eyes. By the time he had been captured by the Thalmor only a few of those soldiers were still alive. He looked at her, searching her face for a sign of her father in her features without knowing who he was and suddenly having a recollection of a child hiding in the shadows hanging onto the words of soldiers. “Brettel Snow-Shield,” he said in recognition.  
The corners of Raveena’s mouth slightly went up as she said, “Yes that was my father.”  
‘I’ll fight for you, Ulfric,’ he heard in his memory and he looked at Ravenna again, his eyes were wide with wonder and awe. “By the Nine! You – you wanted to swear your allegiance to me like the men did.”  
She smiled. “I did swear allegiance to you as a child, just no one ever heard me.”  
“But why did you not come to Windhelm after he died?”  
“After my father was killed, Vogner Two-Blade swore to protect me all his days. He continued training me. He didn’t trust anyone, he knew that the Thalmor were searching for all members of the militia and he tried to always stay ahead of them. My youth was nothing but training. I wanted a normal life even though I’d never have one. When Vogner died, I tried to start my own life, I tried to escape all the running and hiding. That’s when I got in with the Guild.”  
“All these years you’ve been a thief?”  
“No, I left the Guild some time later and journeyed to Cyrodiil.”  
“Why Cyrodiil?”  
She glanced at him and he could see her hesitate before saying, “My own reasons.”  
“Dammit, Raveena!” he snapped in exasperation so suddenly she jumped. “Why all the infernal cloak and dagger with me? It makes it difficult to trust your loyalty!”  
“My loyalty? There should be no question as to whose side I fight on.” She headed to the door, her steps heavy with her anger. She turned to look at him, her ebony eyes as cold and hard as her armor. “The Empire has taken more from me than anyone knows. They tried to take my head simply because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those goddamn elves have been hunting me down and they won’t stop until I’m dead. Obviously my loyalty is not going to be with any of those who wish to execute me but with the man who leads the fight against them.” With that she stormed out of the room. 

#####

Raveena’s anger subsided slightly when she walked into Hjerim. She heard Calder speaking with Iona in the kitchen discussing fighting strategies and she picked up by the tone of Calder’s voice that he was completely immersed in the conversation. She made her way to the hidden room beyond the false panel of a wardrobe towards the back of the house. It was here that she had caught the Imperial Calixto who had committed a series of murders before she had been forced to kill him. Lately she had taken to experimenting with making potions when frustrated and she had picked up a good amount of supplies on her return to Windhelm from Riften. She hadn’t expected to be experimenting tonight but Ulfric’s comment about not knowing where her loyalty lay had unnerved her and sent a sword of anguish through her.  
She busied herself with her mortar and pestle mixing this to that and lost herself in thought as she ground and heated and soon found herself restocked on invisibility potions and some more healing potions. When she stood up straight she heard her joints protesting and her stomach rumbled; she decided to rummage some food up before climbing the stairs to her room. As she sat at the table in the room eating a piece of bread with a bowl of beef stew and a hunk of cheese she thought about the past few weeks. She and Brynjolf had swore an oath to Mara in front of members of the Guild shortly after they had made their amends. It was decided that he would remain in Riften to deal with some loose ends with the Guild. She left Delvin in charge of the Guild while she was gone since Brynjolf was going to live with her at her home in Windhelm while she was in service to Ulfric as a Stormcloak. She had taken care of some bounties that Jarl Laila had sworn out then headed back to Windhelm to return to the war and while taking advantage of the possibility of strengthening the Guild’s influence there.  
She heard a knock at the front door bringing her out of her thoughts. She heard scuffling downstairs as Calder answered the door. At the sound of Ulfric’s deep rumbling voice she felt her blood rushing. She immediately headed to the stairs to confront the jarl who was about to head upstairs. Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at him. “May I help you, my Liege?” she said putting a sarcastic emphasis on the word liege.  
“I would speak to you privately, Raveena.” He raised an eyebrow as she glared at him, the heat of her anger evident. He sighed and said, “My comment about your loyalty was out of line and baseless.” “Baseless? It came out of nowhere! What would ever make you doubt my loyalty? Even before joining the Stormcloaks I was blitzing Imperial Soldiers and freeing your soldiers! I have a price on my head from the Thalmor for blacking their eye more than once, and I’m pretty sure that they will not forgive and forget me. And Tullius, as soon as he finds out that I’m the one who dislodged the emperor’s head he’ll put my drawn and quartered body on display as a lesson to any who defy the Empire!” She descended the stairs, forcing Ulfric to step off the bottom stair he was on. She leveled her eyes at him. “What in Oblivion made you ever doubt my loyalty?”  
Ulfric’s eyes suddenly blazed and he grabbed her hand, turning it so that the ring of marriage was facing her. His voice was hard with anger as he said, “This! This is what makes me question where your conviction to this war is. Where are your thoughts, Raveena? On the field and your fellow soldiers or on who lies in your bed at home?!” She snapped her hand back and bit back the urge to Shout Ulfric out the door. “How dare you!” she spat. “My private life is none of your concern! My performance on the battlefield will not change just because I am wed!” “You say that now, Raveena, but I guarantee it will affect your blade.” He grabbed a hold of her hand again, his fingers on the ring. “This will be what you think of when you swing your sword to fell an enemy! Your thought will go to him–“ The sound of the door slamming shut cut Ulfric off mid-sentence. They both looked to see Brynjolf standing there, his eyes narrowed and hard with anger and they were looking straight at the ruler. “I’d kindly appreciate it if you unhanded my wife, Jarl Ulfric,” he said sternly with bridled ire. Ulfric looked at Brynjolf, his eyes suddenly taking a harder edge than before. Raveena saw this and yanked her hand back saying, “The jarl was just leaving.” He looked at her and she caught sight of hidden emotions in his eyes before they disappeared as he nodded; she suddenly became aware of the person behind the mask.  
“Do not make Galmar wait, Dragonborn. Good night.” With that he headed to the door, paying no mind to Brynjolf as he strode out the door. 

#####

Ulfric’s mind raced as he walked back to the Palace of the Kings. He had not intended to get into an argument with Raveena, but once he saw that infernal ring on her finger again he felt that irritation rise yet once more. It was the same as when he had seen the Amulet, a feeling of the sudden loss of something, no someone he didn’t even have yet. He thought of the man Raveena had married, he knew he had seen him before in Riften and he recognized the armor of the Thieves Guild. ‘What can a thief give the Dragonborn?’ he thought angrily to himself. ‘She deserves so much more then shiny trinkets and baubles. By Talos, she slays dragons and runs campaigns against the Legion while he’s picking locks and finding his fingers in others pockets.’ He nodded at Torbjorn Shatter-Shield as he passed the man entering his home, hoping his frustration did not show upon his face. He was in no mood to discuss much of anything with anyone at the moment, least of all someone who just lost his entire family. As he stepped out in front of the palace he suddenly decided to go to the Temple. He walked in to find it empty save for Lortheim who was tending the fires. He motioned for the priest to pay him no mind as he walked to the front pew and sat down.  
He was a man of action, but at this moment he was a man of emotion. He had fought for his people and for what was right. He knew what he wanted in life; he had since he was a young adult when he left the Greybeards. Or so he had thought. His thoughts went to that day at Darkwater Crossing…

He looked around at his men, bound and disarmed, being herded onto wagons. A few Imperial soldiers took to pushing them aggressively and spitting on them. Tullius demanded Ulfric be bound and gagged, not wanting to risk the jarl using the power of his Thu’um. He watched as they dragged the unconscious Nord woman to the wagon and shoved her into the corner before they ordered the jarl and Ralof into the wagon with the horse thief. He was angered to see the soldiers treating her in such a manner; this was not the Empire that he had once served under.  
Hours passed before she awoke. He listened as Ralof spoke to her and if it had been different circumstances he would have chuckled at how Ralof was being his normal chatty self whenever he was around an attractive woman. Then she looked at him and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He could not help but pay attention to this red headed Nord, his very soul was crying out to her. When she jumped to that inn in Helgen he was sure he’d never see her again until the day she stood before him asking to join the Stormcloaks. From that day on he had found it impossible to not think about her.  
Now he found himself feeling lost when she wasn’t there. He should have paid more attention to the stab of jealousy he had felt when he saw the Amulet of Mara; instead he had fooled himself into believing he could woo her not only into loyalty to him but that he could take his time in swaying her into a relationship. She had made him feel alive in this time where death was everywhere and left no person untouched. The war had been faltering before she joined his side; he had been afraid that he was fighting a losing battle. He had been ready to die for what he believed in yet when she came into his life, his faith in his cause grew so much stronger and he was confident that victory was promised to him. Yet where he had once saw himself standing victorious over the peoples of Skyrim he had begun to see Raveena standing next to him, not just as his champion warrior but as his companion in life from there on out. He had seen the pain in her eyes and he wanted to take it away, he’d do anything to take make sure she never felt that pain again. Instead someone else stole that chance right out from under him.  
“By Talos,” he whispered in sudden realization. “I’ve fallen in love with her.”


	14. Confrontation of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Raveena leaves Windhelm for Fort Sungard, she is confronted by Ulfric.

Ulfric cursed the sun as it spilt into his room. Sleep had not come to him at all as his mind twisted over his feelings for the Dragonborn. It had been over a day since he had last seen her at Hjerim. He knew that she was set to leave today to meet Galmar for the Fort Sungard liberation and he had every intention on seeing her before she rode out. She, on the other hand, seemed to be willing to ignore the summons he had sent out to her; each and every one of them.  
He found himself pacing the floor of the Great Hall, his thoughts jumbled. He needed his thoughts on the war, not on his weakened emotions. Love to him had always been something that weakened a man, confused his thoughts and made him unpredictable. He was a man who had devoted his life to ridding Skyrim of the Empire and the Thalmor; love for someone else had no place in his life as long as his people were under the rule of the puppet Empire and their puppet master the Thalmor. He did not need to cloud his judgment by letting his heart get in the way. But he could not rid his mind of the thoughts of this redheaded woman who had come into his life. He longed for her to walk through those doors. He needed to see her. He could not allow her to go off without seeing her regardless if she wanted to see him or not.  
He looked at the door when light spilled in from outside to see Weyland enter. “You have something for me?” he asked when the man neared.  
“Yes sir. Calder left a few minutes ago headed toward the gate of the city with supplies. It appears he is readying her horse for departure.”  
“And Raveena?” he inquired.  
“She had not yet left Hjerim.”  
Ulfric slowly nodded. “Thank you; you are dismissed.” He stood there a moment by his throne. What was he going to say to her he had no idea. He just knew that he had to go to her now. He needed to make things right. He turned and walked out of the palace. He walked with blind determination through his city, nodding at people in acknowledgement as he passed by. He waved off a guard at the gate and continued on heading toward the stables. His mind raced with all the things he wanted to say. Were his emotions and feelings to come pouring out of him? At this point he didn’t care. He had lost so much in his life and the thought of her not in his life was more than he could stand. He’d do anything to be able to have her by his side, not just in battle but in life. He wanted to protect her; he wanted to make her happy he wanted to give her what no one else could.  
As he approached the stables he saw Raveena speaking to Calder, her back to him. Her hair laid in a thick long plat down the middle of her back, just long enough to reach below her shoulders. She was not wearing her traditional ebony armor but rather had donned a simple dress. She had her ebony bow hitched upon her back along with a quiver full of glass arrows. He also knew her well enough to know that she carried a dagger somewhere upon her person. As he approached he made eye contact with housecarl who merely continued speaking to her. Calder nodded, replied, “I shall see to it, milady. Talos be with you,” then walked away, nodding in silent acknowledgment to the jarl. Ulfric approached Raveena and clearing his throat said, “Your husband is not seeing you off, Dragonborn?”  
She tilted her head to the side for a moment then said, “Brynjolf and I already said our goodbyes earlier. I was expecting you to be here this morning.” She tightened a strap on Shadowmere’s saddle and finding it to her liking she turned to face the jarl. “Sorry to say, my husband’s not very fond of you.”  
“You didn’t respond to any of my summons. Anyone else I would have had brought to me in chains by an escort of guards, Dragonborn,” he stated flatly. “I merely wish to…apologize properly.” At her raised eyebrow he continued on. “Your marriage was a bit of an unexpected surprise that you dropped in my lap. I allowed my own emotions and feelings to stand in the way of proper behavior. When I saw the Amulet of Mara and you said that someone’s mind changed about it, I should have said something then, but I didn’t quite know what my own feelings were. It wasn’t until I saw the ring that I realized the depth of those feelings.” His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he believed she could hear it; his breath was caught in his throat; he felt as nervous as he did the first time he had kissed a young maiden. “Oh damn it all to Oblivion,” he growled as he grabbed her and pulled her to him, kissing her hard on the lips while curling his fingers into her hair. Suddenly he jumped back releasing her as he felt sparks arcing throughout his body. Her eyes blazed between a mixture of excitement and anger; he could see the ire brewing in her eyes. The air around them crackled as sparks surrounded her. “Oh, you are one of many talents, aren’t you?” he teased cautiously.  
“You tread dangerous ground, Jarl,” she breathed in warning.  
“You say that with your voice but your lips have betrayed you now as they have before, Raveena.” He ran his thumb over his lips as he tilted his head as he smiled at her, his eyes glinting with a look of satisfied amusement.  
“My lips do not speak for my heart!” She went to turn on her heel when he took her arm and forced her to turn back to him. He glimpsed the pent up desire seething behind her own eyes before she snapped up a wall of indignation.  
“Do they not? Why do they yield so easily to mine? Why are they so soft beneath the power of my lips? Why do your lips betray your words?” He ran his finger gently along her lips watching for her reaction which was instantaneous as her eyelids slightly closed, her breath caught slightly in the back of her throat followed by her tongue tracing the inside of her own lips. He leaned in towards her again and whispered, “Why does your body refute your denials?” and kissed her again, this time holding her hands so to avoid being shocked again, letting them go when he finally broke the kiss. He breathed softly next to her ear, “Are you sure you’ve made the right choice, Raveena?”  
“You play upon the feelings of the young girl I once was!” she snapped through clenched teeth as she pushed him away from her. “A young girl you barely noticed then and only do so now because of what I am, the Dragonborn!” She pulled herself up to sit upon Shadowmere then looked back at the jarl. “Do you really think that I do not see the game you play, Ulfric? Can you be satisfied to have the Dragonborn only fight under your banner and not join you in your bed?” With that she spurred Shadowmere on and rode out to Fort Sungard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *NOTE FOR NEXT CHAPTER(S)
> 
> We see Raveena leaving Windhelm to start the Liberation of Skyrim quests at the end of this chapter. The next chapter will be involving the liberation of the forts Sungard and Snowhawk as well as bringing Raveena to Sovngarde. I will be posting a part one & a part two of the chapter.


	15. Liberation, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena returns to Windhelm with liberated soldiers from Fort Sungard and receives her next set of orders from Ulfric; Raveena and Brynjolf have a tender moment alone before she leaves for her next destination.

Raveena had always found the snow reassuring and invigorating; it made her feel more alive. She had been born during the middle of a snowstorm and her father had always said that the snow coursed through her veins and it would always be her strength. Today she felt very alive as she strode through the snow covered streets of Windhelm, leading a contingent of Stormcloaks newly freed from Fort Sungard. As residents saw the Dragonborn they stopped to watch, every so often a shout of recognition echoed out as someone saw their loved ones in the group of liberated soldiers. As they climbed the steps to the palace Raveena caught sight of Brynjolf coming from the Grey Quarter. She looked at the soldier behind her and said, “Continue to the Palace, I will be along shortly.” She watched him continue on and then walked to her husband. He smiled at her approach and gently kissed her lips when she stood before him.   
“Good to see you home safely, Veena.”   
She smiled at him, “Was there any doubt on my safety?”   
“No, lass, your safety I do not doubt. Those who stand against you, they should be in fear for their own safety.”   
She chuckled at him then asked, “How are things with my husband?”   
“Things are well here. I received a message from Delvin and things in Riften are going well. The Ragged Flagon has a new vendor and we’ve got a few new recruits that are showing much promise… as long as they don’t cross Vex, of course.” He pulled Raveena closer to him and looked in her eyes. “I could get used to this, love.”   
She kissed his lips, nipping them with her teeth making him let loose a throaty lustful growl within the depths of his throat. “We will have plenty of time to get used to things. But as much as I want to put this off and spend the afternoon with you, I must get to the Palace and deliver my report to Ulfric.”   
“Now why’d you have to go and ruin the moment by saying a thing like that, lass?” he chuckled at her before he kissed her forehead in an effort to hide the flash of distrust that shown in his eyes at the mention of the jarl’s name. “I’ll see you at home.”   
She watched him walk in the direction of their home then took a deep breath and continued on. A guard opened the door to the Palace for her as he said, “Welcome back, Dragonborn. The jarl has requested your presence in the war room.” She glanced at him, her eyebrow cocked and a look of incredulousness gracing her face. “And I’m assuming that the jarl made it a point that I was not to enter without being told this?”   
The guard blushed and nodded. “He was quite adamant that you be told.” He looked to the sides and then leaned towards the woman, his voice a whisper. “He’s been pacing the Palace floors since yesterday.”   
“I bet,” she mumbled. Sighing she walked through the doors and headed directly to the war room. She was still angry with him, but she was also angry at herself. She had not been honest with her own self about her feelings but instead she had played hide and seek with them. Now she found herself having to face them head on and she was not ready to. She had long thought the door on those feelings had been sealed shut forever. She walked into the room to see Ulfric standing by the table, looking at the map upon it.   
“Dragonborn,” he greeted her with only a quick glance. “The stories I hear from the men speak of your prowess in battle. You do us a great service. Now that the Empire has been driven from the Reach we can put a stop to the raping of her silver mines. That silver belongs in Skyrim. Multitudes of our enemies are buried in an avalanche of pain and retribution delivered by your hands. I shall call you Snow-Hammer now. You show great passion for battle, and compassion for those we fight for. You are becoming indispensable to our cause. We do what we do out of love for our brothers and sisters.”   
She was grateful that he was addressing the war and not what was happening between them. Maybe he realized that he would be nothing more than her superior, she thought to herself. She cleared her throat as she nodded and asked, “What is our next course of action?” She watched him as he looked at the map and tapped the area near Morthal. “You’re needed in Hjaalmarch. Meet Galmar at our camp there, he’ll have your orders.” He straightened up and looked at her. She saw the lines of exhaustion etched into his face; he seemed to have aged years in the short time she was gone. “By the Nine, Ulfric!” she said in a scolding tone. “When was the last time you slept?”   
He smiled slightly at her and said, “Sleep is greatly overrated.” At her stern look that reminded him of his own mother when he would defy her as a young child, he chuckled and continued, “I would probably sleep better if I knew that my champion warrior was no longer angry with me.”   
She walked to the opposite side of the table as Ulfric, eyeing him as she said, “Why? Afraid that your champion warrior just might Shout you out one of these windows into the ocean outside the city walls?” He laughed at that and she continued on, “Don’t think I haven’t been tempted to!”   
He laughed even harder. “That’s why I’m laughing, my spitfire,” he said as a smile graced his lips and touched his eyes. “I know you would.”   
Exasperated she broached the subject. “What do you expect from me, Ulfric? Do you think that just because you have turned your attentions to me that I should swoon and fall into your arms? And if I did, when would you tire of me? After the Moot when they declare you the High King? After you drive the Empire from the land and rid Skyrim of the Thalmor and their damned influence? Who would dare challenge the rebel jarl with the Dragonborn fighting by his side? Really, do you think that I don’t see the advantages you would have if I was forever by your side?”  
He looked at her and sighed. He knew she spoke truth, only this wasn’t his truth, at least not anymore. “Yes, you’re right about there being advantages to being more than my champion warrior; do you think me a fool to be blind to that fact? Do you think me to be shallow so that I could not develop feelings for you? Do you think me incapable of love? Do you think that all those nights we spent in the garden were meaningless to me?” He closed his eyes and shook his head before continuing, “You, my spitfire, and you alone are the only person I have ever brought to my mother’s garden.” He looked at her, his soul bared in his eyes.   
She stared at him, her eyes betraying her own inner war. Her voice was hard as she replied, “You only want the power of my Thu’um; you said it yourself when you said you could taste the power of my Thu’um on my lips. You hunger for the power I wield and the only way you can possess it is by keeping me under your banner. You seem to think that my loyalty will be stronger if you bed me. But you forget, my Liege that I don’t fight for you. I fight for Skyrim and as long as you, Ulfric, not I, fight for the people of this land, I will fight under your banner.” She turned and started to walk out.   
“Raveena, “ came Ulfric’s commanding voice. She stopped, but refused to turn around. She heard him walk up behind her and then felt the weight of his calloused hand upon her shoulder. “I will not deny what and how I feel. I will shelve those feelings if it means you continuing to fight for the cause. I would much rather have you fighting alongside me as a trusted friend than to not have you there at all.”   
She inhaled deeply and replied. “That is completely up to you.” And she walked out. 

#####

Raveena lay curled up on her bed, her hand resting on Brynjolf’s bare chest. She lazily played with the sprinklings of hair on his chest as he stroked her hair. His heart no longer raced and his breathing had returned to normal; they indulged themselves in the imbibing of one another’s company. For once in her life she was satisfied.   
“How long until you leave again?”   
She groaned as she was reminded of her responsibilities. “I should leave by nightfall. Galmar is expecting me at the camp outside of Morthal no later than midday tomorrow.”   
“I don’t like that town; too many damn vampires. And they already want to have a piece of you. How many have you killed?”   
She chuckled. “I’m not counting but I don’t expect any trouble from them; I took care of the master vampire that had been plaguing Morthal. You needn’t worry about me, Bryn. I’ll be fine.”   
He tightened his hold on her, kissed the top of her head and said, “It’s my job to worry about you. I’m the only one who cares for you because of who you are, Raveena, not because of what you are, Dragonborn.”   
At his comment, she thought of Ulfric. Had he truly developed feelings for her? Did he truly care for her the way Brynjolf did? When she was yet a young girl she had developed a crush on the future jarl; he was her first case of puppy love. But he was blind to her then; she was merely the daughter of one of the men who swore allegiance to him. After Markarth she had thought she’d never see him again until she found herself in the back of a wagon bound next to him headed to the chopping block in Helgen. She had since been seeing him in her dreams off in the distance while Alduin bore down on Windhelm. She thought about the look in Ulfric’s eyes the night Brynjolf arrived at Hjerim, that one look before he put the public face back on. She had seen a mixture of intense anger and jealously boiling behind his eyes but she had also seen pain and in that moment she knew that he looked at her as more than just his champion warrior.   
“Veena?” Brynjolf said softly.   
“Just thinking, Bryn. I’m so many things to so many people that I begin to question who I really am and if anyone knows the real me, the person behind the title. I mean, when I found out I was the Dragonborn, I searched for meaning and tried to figure out my new path. The Greybeards gave me the spiritual insight but it wasn’t what I needed. With the Companions I felt like I was doing good for the people, but it soon became evident that my path wasn’t with them. I’ve become the Guildmaster as well as being the Listener and running the Dark Brotherhood. I’m a Stormcloak soldier who happens to be Dovahkiin. But none of those things say who I am,” she said jabbing at herself in the chest for emphasis. “Have you heard the songs the bards sing about the return of the Dragonborn? They all speak of my skill with a blade but not one speaks of my character!”   
“Veena, those of us who know you will tell stories of you around the hearth fires across the land for years to come and they will speak of your heart and the trueness of your soul. You, the master thief who saved Skyrim from the World-Eater.”   
She chuckled. “The irony of it all.”   
They laid there for a while, resting in each other’s arms. Raveena drifted into sleep and awoke to Brynjolf serving her a hearty bowl of venison stew. She discovered that while she had slept he and Calder had refreshed her traveling pack with potions and supplies. She donned her ebony armor and checked the sharpness to her swords before sheathing them on her hips, and she refreshed her quiver with a new supply of ebony arrows. When it was time to leave, Brynjolf walked with her to the stables with Calder following behind carrying her ebony bow. There was fresh snow falling upon the stones and a slight breeze blew through the loose strands of her hair. She kissed Brynjolf goodbye before he helped her up onto Shadowmere. He wished her a safe journey and she nudged the horse into a gallop.   
As she passed the bridge she became aware of a figure standing in the shadows, Ulfric’s robes unmistakable. 

#####

Raveena dismounted Shadowmere and gave him a good sized carrot before walking to the large tent on the other side of the fire. A couple of soldiers stopped short of lying down in their individual tents to stare as she strode past. She did her best to ignore it; this being a “living legend” took some getting used to.   
“Ah, Snow-Hammer, you’re here. Good. I need you to deliver some false orders to the Imperial Legate in Morthal. But first we need to get our hands on some Imperial orders to make the forgeries. The inns at Dragon Bridge and Rorikstead are frequent stops for Imperial runners. See if you can’t ‘convince’ one of those innkeepers to help you. One way or another, get me those documents.”   
She lifted her eyebrow. “Guess Ulfric really wants to exploit my skills as a thief as well as my being Dragonborn. Fine. It’s as good as done.”   
“Knew we could count on you. Talos guide you, Raveena.” 

#####

Raveena sat at the counter in the Four Shields Tavern; she picked at the remains of a sweet roll while chatting up the innkeeper, Faida. She had changed from her armor to a blue dress and some simple boots; no need to be flashy here in Imperial territory. She looked at the woman and said, “That definitely filled my belly, Faida. Very tasty too. Tell me something, though. Have you seen any Imperial couriers around?”   
The woman clucked at her and said, “I tend to keep my patron’s privacy.”   
Raveena quickly decided on a course of action. “It’s… it’s just….” A tear slipped out of her eye and trailed down her cheek. “I need to talk to him! He has kept telling me that he’s gonna decide what he wants but, but….well,” she fidgeted with her hands and then hurriedly said, “I am with child.”   
Faida dropped her hands and said, “Oh dear. I see.” She hesitated then said, “He was just here, left here maybe not five minutes before you walked in. You can probably catch him if you hurry.”   
“He was?” her voice jumped in faked elation. “Oh thank you, thank you so much! If it’s a girl I’ll name her after you, Faida!” She hurried out the door and climbed onto Shadowmere and urged the horse into a full run across the bridge. She chuckled to herself as she thought about how many times the pregnant lover line worked. Once she was across the bridge she urged Shadowmere even harder to close the distance between the courier and herself. She thought of ways to steal those plans without killing him; it was much more prudent to make the Legion look like bumbling idiots than to kill the poor guy for what he carried.   
As she neared a bend near Chillwind Depths she heard the sounds of fighting and saw bandits attacking a lone figure. She saw the uniform and smiled. “Thank you, Clavicus Vile,” she muttered as she jumped off Shadowmere and rushed forward. She quickly dispatched three of the bandits while the other two, both badly wounded, ran off licking their wounds. The courier sat on a log, his hand upon his sword but by his heavy breathing she knew he would not be able to lift it yet. She approached him after sheathing her own sword. “Are you alright, sir? Do you need anything?”   
He looked her over and said, “If you have any healing potions that’d be wonderful, miss.”   
“Oh yes,” she said as a plan quickly formed in her head. “I’m a healer, I can take care of your wounds and check you over to make sure you’re alright. It’d be my honor to help you. Let’s just say it’s my way of helping the Empire during this war with those nasty Stormcloaks.” She flashed him a smile as she set about pouring the healing potion on a rag and taking care of his wounds. She reached in her pack and pulled out an elixir that made the imbiber fall asleep as well as a bottle of mead. She poured the elixir into the mead and then turned back to the courier. She saw his parcel bag was sitting next to him. ‘This is too damn easy.’   
“Here, sir, drink some of this mead. It’ll help with the aches. Well, at least that’s what my Da would always say.” She gave a fluty laugh as she handed him the bottle. She watched as he tipped it back and drank the whole bottle in a few large gulps. Her smile turned into a smirk and her voice took a dark edge as she said, “You know, some time ago I helped some Alik’r capture a Redguard woman who had betrayed their people to the Aldmeri Dominion, she sold them out. When I collected the money promised the leader gave me a bit of advice that I’m going to give to you. Don’t be fooled by a pretty face. You, dear sir, are lucky that I wasn’t contracted to kill you because if I was the amount of the potion you just drank would have killed you had it been one of my poisons.” She watched as his eyes started to droop as he mumbled through weary lips. “Shhhh, don’t worry. You’re just going to sleep for a few days. By the time you wake up, there’s not going to be anything you can do but pray to whatever Divine you follow that Tullius doesn’t take your pretty little head.”   
Raveena put the unconscious courier on Shadowmere after securing the orders and mounted the horse. She rode straight to Morthal. It was almost nightfall when she got there. She hitched Shadowmere near the guardhouse but where he wouldn’t be seen. She found Benor walking toward the Moorside Inn and pulled him aside. “I need you to do me a favor,” she said. “I’ll put down all the gold for the room and give you 100 more to take care of this guy until he wakes. He’s gonna be out for at least two days.”   
“Sure, Raveena, anything for you. Who is he?”   
She looked at him the said, “Follow me.” She led him back to Shadowmere where he let out a low whistle. “Do you have a cloak?” he asked. “We shouldn’t let it be known that he’s an Imperial.” She opened her pack and pulled out a cloak she had bought recently as a gift for Iona but she could easily replace it. They put the cloak on him after stripping him of his uniform and walked to the inn carrying him. Benor paid for the room with the gold he was given and she helped him bring her drunk friend to the room. She thanked Benor and gave him a hug and left to return to Galmar.


	16. Liberation, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena returns to Windhelm only to be told that she needs to address the dragon situation. Before she journeys to Haafingar to assist Galmar with the liberation of another fort she must journey to Dragonsreach to capture Odahviing.

Raveena walked into Galmar’s tent hoping he’d be awake. She nudged the snoring man, calling out his name while standing at a safe distance away. She had already heard about waking him up the wrong way from the others. She nudged him again only to hear more content snoring emitting from the man. “Oh please, did you drink too much mead, Galmar?” she muttered. She stood back and shocked him with a short burst of sparks aimed next to him. He suddenly jumped up off his bedroll, shouting, “Damn girl! Must you wake an old man in such a way?”   
“Well you didn’t want to wake up to me nudging you and calling your name.” She tossed the missive onto the table next to him. “Figured you would want these as soon as I returned.”   
“Ulfric said you’d get the job done. Now, let’s see what those milk drinkers are up to. Hmmm… They know more of our plans than we thought…. Not good... Oh, what’s this? Fort Snowhawk is in need of reinforcements... We’ll make sure they won’t be getting those… Give me a moment while I make a few, um, ‘corrections’ to these reports… There we go.” He handed the missive back. “Make sure those forged documents get to the Legate in Morthal. They should give them the wrong idea… and give us the advantage.”   
“Yes, sir.” She turned and started to leave but Galmar stopped her.   
“I know it’s none of my business, but what’s going on between you and Ulfric?”   
She turned to him, her eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing going on between us. Why do you think there is?”   
The older man folded his arms in front of him, a look of aged wisdom coming across his face. “Because you two argue like a married couple.” At Raveena’s astonished look he continued on. “I’ve known Ulfric damn near his entire life. I’ve never seen him act so discombobulated before. And then there’s the matter of the orders he sends concerning you. He wants you on the frontlines yet he demands your safety be guaranteed.”   
She sighed and sat down. She looked down at the document in her hands but her mind was elsewhere. Part of her was at Hjerim with Brynjolf hoping that Mara will bless them with a child again while another part of her sat on a bench in a beautiful secluded garden growing closer to the rugged jarl. “I don’t know what Ulfric has told you,” she said finally.   
A smile played on his lips as he said, “I knew it. I knew there was something that you two were trying to hide. I don’t know anything, it’s all been the actions of both you and him. Actions speak much louder than one’s words.”   
She looked directly at Galmar. “My father was Brettel Snow-Shield. After he died I was raised by Vogner Two-Blade until he died. I choose to carry on my father’s oath of allegiance to Ulfric.”   
“That would explain your fighting skills,” he said as realization dawned upon him. “You move like Vogner did. I trained with him; he was a good man. And you are Brettel’s daughter?” a snort escaped him as he smiled, “That definitely explains your attitude towards things.”   
She chuckled. “Yes, I heard quite often how I sounded so much like my father.” She ran her hand through her hair. “Ulfric sees a stronger front if him and I were more than jarl and his champion. But I am already wed.”  
“Oh.” Galmar sat down in the chair across from her. “I see.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I’m the last person to advise on this but I’d venture that you need to figure out what you want.”   
“That’s the thing, Galmar,” she said softly. “I thought I knew what I wanted. Then he had to go and throw his feelings into the mix.”   
“What about your feelings?” She stared at him; he chuckled. “Oh yes, you have feelings for him. That’s obvious in how you act around him, how you talk to him when you think no one else hears you and it’s damn evident by your silence right now.”   
“My feelings,” she snapped, “don’t matter because nothing’s going to happen. I’m married to Brynjolf and that’s that. Ulfric is going to have to be satisfied that I fight on his side.” She stood up and looked at Galmar. “The sooner I get this delivered in Morthal the sooner I can get some sleep. See you soon.”   
Galmar watched her leave muttering to himself, “Satisfied? No, Ulfric won’t be satisfied with just that.” 

#####

Ulfric growled at the knock at his door. He sat up pulling the bear covering off of him. “Enter!” he hollered as he swung his muscular legs off the side of his bed. He rubbed his forehead as he heard his door open. “Any word from Morthal, Jorl-“ he started to ask before he looked up to see Raveena standing there watching him with an arched eyebrow.   
“Good morning, Jarl Ulfric,” she said with a slight smirk on her face. “Sleep well?” Her eyes drifted downward for a moment then looked back at him, her eyes glinting.   
Ulfric’s thoughts went to the remnants of the dream he had been whisked away from just moments before, a dream where she had been calling out to him lustfully. He stifled a groan as he looked at her. “Would’ve been better had that not been a dream but I’ll take what I can get.”  
She rolled her eyes at him while picking up his cloak and handed it to him before walking to the window. “Fort Snowhawk has fallen to the Stormcloaks. Sorli the Builder has been made jarl per your orders. The rescued soldiers are being tended to and will be ready for debriefing after they have seen the healers.”   
“Tullius must be getting nervous. Taking Hjaalmarch we’re practically in his backyard now.” He pulled a blue tunic over his head then put on his fur trimmed cloak before retrieving his boots. “As soon as we’re able, we’ll march on Solitude. You’ve become a true hero of Skyrim. I number you among my kin.” He stood and walked to her, resting his hand on her shoulder, turning her to him. “The love of the land and her people flows from your heart, even as death to her enemies flows from your hands.”   
“So what’s our next course of action?”   
He dropped his hand and walked to the table they had shared Colovian brandy at just months previous; he motioned for her to join him at the table and once she sat he continued saying, “We’re gathering for our final assault on Solitude. I need you there. You might want to take care of Alduin, Spitfire. This is the time to do so.” He looked at her blank face. “You have trained diligently for this. I’ve watched you in the yards; I’ve heard the men speak of you. You are ready for this.”   
“I know I am, I’m just… I’m frightened. It’s a lot of weight on my shoulders. There’s the fear of failing and knowing what exactly will happen if I do.”   
“Don’t let that fear overwhelm you. You have a great power within you and with that power comes the responsibility of defeating the World-Eater. You will defeat him. You have more experience in the slaying of dragons than any of our heroes of olden days. How much more have you trained since you took down that first dragon at Whiterun’s Western Watchtower? There is no one else more suited or capable for this.” He looked at her, his eyes soft, his voice gently. “Honestly, I’d be worried if you weren’t frightened by this, my little Spitfire.”   
She sighed as she said, “What happens if I fail?”   
“You won’t.” He gave her a smile. “I have faith in you, Dragonborn. You’re a great warrior, you’re quick on your feet, you adapt to your situation and take control of it, you are a great strategist and you show no fear in battle. Many have already fallen to your blade and Alduin will see the same fate they have.”   
She looked at the jarl and slowly nodded. “I must see Brynjolf before I leave for Whiterun. I shall leave in the morning if that is alright with you?”   
An expression of reluctant acceptance touched his eyes as his smile slightly diminished and he nodded. “I expected as much. Go; spend time with your husband. When you return from Sovngarde report to Galmar in Haafingar.” He stood up, holding his hand out for her to help her stand but he did not let go once she had. “Raveena, I am your friend, first and foremost and what I’ve said before, I mean all of it. I cannot change what I feel. Even if I could, I doubt I would. You are my champion warrior, but more importantly I count you amongst my most trusted and valued friends.” He cupped her face as he continued, “Don’t hold my feelings for you against me and don’t judge me harshly for admitting them. No one has ever made me feel this way before.” He placed a light kiss upon her forehead then let go of her. “Talos be with you, Dragonborn.” 

#####

They spent the day in bed. Brynjolf was bound and determined to give her a day of rest and relaxation, but his idea of it meant making love passionately as much as possible. As the sun began its descent into the horizon, they sat at the table in the room, eating the roasted leg of goat, potatoes and grilled leeks that Calder had fixed for an evening meal.   
“I got a message from Delvin yesterday,” Brynjolf said. “Said one of us should make an appearance at the Flagon. Why not I go and take care of a few things while you fight Alduin?”   
“Sounds good to me. Everything is going well with the Guild though?”   
“Some new recruits, couple new vendors. Seems both the Guild and the Brotherhood are reclaiming their former glory under your leadership.”   
She nodded and said, “Speaking of leadership, the last time I was in Whiterun Vilkas and I sat down and discussed my being the Harbinger. I decided to step down from the position, especially since I’m a Stormcloak. Vilkas will be named Harbinger next full moon. Kodlak saw in me what was needed to set things right for the Companions. We have the cure for the beast blood. Vilkas and Farkas sought to be at peace with themselves and no longer carry their burden. Aela, she’s never going to give up her blessing.”   
“And you, Veena?”   
She looked at him. He was the only person besides Lydia outside the Cricle who knew that in her veins ran the blood of the wolf. “It has it’s advantages. I am in control of my cravings and I can hunt when need be. I… do not want to give up my gift.”   
He nodded. He wasn’t completely comfortable with his wife’s being a werewolf. “Veena… if you become with child…” He trailed off.   
She looked at him again. “Will our child carry the beast blood too? I don’t know, Bryn. Vilkas knows the stories better than I and even he didn’t have an answer for that. Are you rethinking of trying for a child?”   
“If I were would I be devouring you as much as I have been today, lass?” He laughed. “I wonder, that is all, my love.”   
“Perhaps you should prove it to me,” Raveena said with a sultry smile and a seductive glint to her eyes.   
“Maybe I just will.” 

#####

The wind whistled past Raveena as she stood on the balcony looking at the horizon. She wore her traditional ebony armor sans her helmet. Her bow in her hand with her quiver on her hip. She scanned the skies as she listened to Jarl Vignar yammer on about the castle nervously. She rolled her eyes when he asked her if she was sure the trap was going to work for what seemed like the hundredth time. She looked down at him as she replied calmly, “Yes, the trap is going to work. It’s going to work for as long as I need it to work.”   
“Of course, StormBlade,” he said calling her what the majority of the Stormcloaks called her now. “Whenever you are ready then.”   
“Thank you, Jarl Vignar,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. She turned back to the horizon. She closed her eyes and saw the words in front of her. She inhaled deeply, gathering air into her lungs, the power of her Thu’um rising in the depths of her soul. “Od Ah Viing!” ripped across the sky and immediately the Whiterun guards became more alert, their bows in hand, an arrow nocked into place. A minute went by, then another. “Come on, you damn flying beast,” she breathed as she began to think she was going to need to Shout again. Suddenly the air got stale and warm, the breeze stopped and it was quiet all around. Raveena smirked as she shouted, “We’ve got company!” She jumped off the balcony, her new enchanted boots absorbing the shock of her landing. She saw the dragon right before a guard yelled, “There!” as he aimed his arrow at the approaching dragon.   
“Shoot only to bring down!” she hollered just as the wind from his wings pushed its way by them as he screeched by. She ran to the middle of the patio’s exterior and Shouted, “Joor Zah Frul!” She watched as the red beast wrestled against itself as Dragonrend forced the dragon down. The ground vibrated violently as the weight of Odahviing crashed in front of them. She nocked an aroow in place and aimed it at him. AS she released the arrow, she took a step back as she drew another arrow out. She repeated this until she had led the dragon further into the patio area until suddenly the trap was sprung, catching the great beast’s head and preventing him from moving or breathing any fire.   
“Nid! Horvutah med kodaav… Caught like a bear in a trap… Zok frini grind ko grah viiki, Dovahkiin. Ah, I forget. You do not have the dovah speech. My… eagerness to meet you in battle was my undoing, Dovahkiin. I salute your, hmmm, low cunning in devising such a grahmindd – stratagem. Zu’u bonarr. You went to a great deal of trouble to put me in this humilitating position. Hind siiv Alduin, hmmm? No doubt you want to know where to find Alduin?”   
“That’s right. Where’s Alduin?”  
“Rinik vazah. An apt phrase. Alduin bovul. One reason I came to your call was to test your Thu’um myself. Many of us have begun to question Alduin’s lordship, whether his Thu’um was truly the strongest. Among ourselves of course. Mu ni meyye. None were ready to openly defy him. Unslaad krosis. Innumerable pardons. I digress. He has travelled to Sovngarde to regain his strength, devouring the sillesejour… the souls of the mortal dead. A privilege he jealously guards…”   
“I was afraid of that,” she mumbled.   
“His door to Sovngarde is at Skulfafn, one of his ancient fanes high in the eastern mountains. Mindoraan, pah ok middovahhe lahvraan til. I surely do not need to warn you that all his remaining strength is marshaled there. Zu’u lost ofan hin laan… now that I have answered your question, you will allow me to go free?”   
“Will you serve me?”   
“Aam. Serve you?... no. Ni tiid. If nad when you defeat Alduin, I will reconsider. Hmmm… krosis. There is one detail about Skuldafn I neglected to mention.”   
“What?” Her eyes narrowed.   
“Only this. You have the Thu’um of a dovah, but without the wings of one, you will never set foot in Skuldafn. Of course… I could fly you there. But not while imprisoned like this.”   
“We seem to be at an impasse, then.”   
“Indeed. Orin brit ro. I cannot leave here until you defeat Alduin, which you cannot do without my help.”   
Raveena turned and walked towards the doors to the castle. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered. ‘How do I trust him? What if it’s a trap?’ Her mind raced with possibilities. She saw her path clearly now, all it’s twists and turns have led to this path directly to Alduin. She knew what she had to do. She walked back to Odahviing.   
“You have reconsidered my offer, hmm? Oni kaan kron? You will release me – ro laan – if in return I promise to take you to Skuldafn and stop helping Alduin?”   
She nodded and said, “Yes. I’ll set you free if you promise to take me to Skuldafn.”   
“Oni kaan koraav gein miraad. It is wise to recognize when you have only one choice. And you can trust me. Zu’u ni tahrodiis. Alduin has proven himself unworthy to rule. I go my own way now. Free me, and I will carry you to Skuldafn.”   
She stood there a moment, then went up the stairs to where the release lever was housed. She ordered the guard to free Odahviing to which he responded, “Are you sure about that? You want to let that dragon loose after all the trouble to catch him in there?”   
“Yes, I’m sure.”   
The guard shook his head. “Your funeral. Someone else is gonna have to help you get him back in there again.”   
“Just do it.” She spun around and went back down to see the court wizard speaking to Odahviing. “Farengar,” she said, “I admire your interest in dragons, but we really don’t have time for this.” She heard the guard saying how he thought this was a bad idea and she wished she had her throwing knives.   
“Carry on, soldier,” she heard Vignar say. “This is all part of the Dragonborn’s plan.”   
‘Yeah, all part of my plan,’ she thought to herself. With a loud clanking the trap released from around the neck of the dragon. She approached the beast as he said, “Faas nu, zini dein ruthi ahst vaal. Saraan uth – I await your command, as promised. Are you ready to see the world only as a dovah can?”   
“I’m ready. Take me to Skuldafn.”   
“Zok brit uth! I warn you, once you’ve flown the skies of Keizaal, your envy of the dov will only increase. Amativ! Mu bokotin stinselok.”   
As Raveena climbed atop the great neck of the red dragon she heard a voice in her head say she was crazy but as soon as they lifted up into the skies, she knew he was right. It was breathtakingly beautiful.


	17. To Skuldafn We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena arrives in Skuldafn.

The sky was darkening when Odahviing landed in Skuldafn. The wind brought a colder chill than Raveena was used to, even with her Nord blood. She looked around at her surroundings, taking in the beautiful ancient structures. They were frighteningly beautiful. 

"This is as far as I can take you, Krif voth ahkrin. I will look for your return, or Alduin's." 

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dragon," she said as the great beast flew off, his large, powerful wings kicking up a mixture of snow and dirt. Raveena started towards the temple, her eyes searching for movement. As she looked at the ruins around her she thought of how Esbern would have loved to be here. She tried to commit everything she saw to memory so she could tell him all about it when she returned. 

She heard an arrow fly by her head and then saw the draugr above her. She drew an arrow and quickly sent it flying, knocking the undead creature back; it did not get up again. "Really wish the dead would stay dead," she muttered as she crept forward. She heard the flapping of wings before she felt the air heat up around her. She raised her shield to block the onslaught of flame and could hear "Skuldafn fen kos dinok" on the winds in dragon tongue. Somehow she knew that the dragon taunted her with promises of death. 

"We'll see whose death is met here today, beast," she yelled back at it. She crouched low, crept along the darkened wall; she watched for the dragon to come into view. Suddenly she saw the darkened form nearing her; she stood and Shouted "Joor Zah Frul!" and grasped a hold of her sword, her bow now firmly on her back. The dragon crashed in front of her, his jaws opened as a burst of flame erupted forth. She advanced forward, her shield protecting her from the fiery breath. "You call that a flame Shout?" she taunted with a laugh. She glared at the great winged beast and Shouted, "Yol Toor Shul!" As her own Shout enveloped the dragon, she rushed forward, her blade finding its way to the soft underside of the scales. The creature howled in heated pain as it shook violently before collapsing dead. "Yeah, I thought so," she said, sheathing her poison coated sword. "All talk and nothing to show for it." 

She continued on, fighting draugr after draugr as she made her way into the temple. She was thankful for her excessive training and that being outnumbered had never phased her. She loved the challenge. She took a moment to tend to some wounds that a draugr had inflicted upon her and shoved a piece of bread into her mouth while washing it down with a pull from her mead. Her thoughts were erratic, one moment she was thinking of how Brynjolf would smile at her then she found her thoughts on how Ulfric's touch set her skin on fire with forbidden desire; she thought of how she was going to fight this massive beast soon and then she started to worry if she was even going to survive this impending legendary battle. She realized how much she had changed in the couple years she had been back from Cyrodiil. "And here I thought coming back was the hardest thing I had to ever do in my life," she snorted as she stood up and put her helmet back on. 

She walked into a large room and swore. She nearly didn't see the draugr coming up on the side of her from behind. She spun on her heel as she drew her sword and dislodged the undead's head. Another creature came out from behind a stone pillar and she thrust her sword throught the torso causing the draugr to collapse dead. She kicked the body aside as she looked around the room. Noticing the emblems on the wall were also on the pillars she smiled. She twisted of the stones until she decided she had the right combination. She pulled the lever in front and watched as the gate clanked open. 

She drew her sword and continued on, her thoughts revolving around her fight with Alduin. She remembered that first time she had seen him at Helgen, her shock and disbelief, completely thinking that she wasn't going to lose her head but become some dragon's roasted snack. Now she sought to slay the very dragon responsible for keeping her alive. She saw the irony in her taking the life of the very being that had given her a second chance at hers. As she fought her way through yet another cluster of walking corpses and then frostbite spiders, she thought of the time she spent with the Greybeards and the training that they had given her. Then her thoughts drifted to Delphine and Esbern, the last two surviving members of the Blades. While she had no great connection with Delphine, she had to agree with her that if her life and path had been left up to the group of hermits, Raveena would have been living her life in seclusion and meditating upon Words while Alduin destroyed all of Nirn. 

She entered another room with another puzzle; and more draugr. "Damn you all to Oblivion! Stay dead, dammit!" she swore as she sliced her way through. As the last one fell, she sheathed her sword and sat on a platform. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest, her anxiety increasing the further she progressed. She studied the puzzle above her and saw the solution. Before beginning again she scanned the room, plotting her next course of action. Taking a deep breath, she began again. 

She found herself in a long hall, looking for a way through the Temple. She entered a room and just as she saw the puzzle door she saw the Draugr Scourge Lord. 'Fuck me,' she thought angrily to herself as she Shouted, 'Yol Toor Shul!" After a couple swings of her sword and a head bash with her shield, she thrust her blade through the undead's chest, momentarily pinning the creature to the wall before she removed her sword and the body crumpled at her feet. She looked around for the dragon claw, then at the draugr. "You have it, don't you?" She dropped to her knees and began searching, quickly finding it. She looked at it in the light, moved the rings on the puzzle door around, then inserted the claw into the keyhole in the center. 

The door started creaking as dust and dirt cascaded in front of her while the door slipped into the floor. She felt the drumming in her head, she heard the words vibrating against the walls. She climbed the steps to see the Word Wall in the far back. She carefully approached, watching for signs of activity. The drumming and chanting grew louder and incessant; the power in the Wall affected her senses as if she were drunk on the strongest mead. Suddenly she had clarity and she had a more in depth understanding of Strun as well as Bah but now Qo as well. She smiled in satisfaction. 

She knew it was close, her appointed time with Alduin. She walked around the wall to see a wooden door; she knew her destiny lay beyond it. Taking a deep breath she opened the doors. 

Snow flew past her as a burst of cold air rushed in. She stumbled as a draugr Shouted "Do Ra!" and she charged it, taking it down with one fell swoop. "Bastard," she sneered. She saw a group of draugr advancing on her and Shouted "Fus Ro Dah" knocking them off of their feet. She found herself dancing amongst these walking dead, swinging and slashing her sword, smashing and banging heads with her shield until bodies lay on the ground, motionless and forever muted. 

As she climbed more steps she caught sight of two dragons who looked like sentries. They watched her with interest, but they remained where they were. She saw a Dragon Priest ascending a pillar of stairs, Nahkriin Odahviing had said his name was. She saw him remove his staff from what she could tell controlled the portal to Sovngarde. Her heart beat faster, her breath caught in her throat in exhilarated fear; her destiny lay right beyond that portal which was now closing as the priest attacked her. 

"I'm gonna be needing that staff," she said as she blocked the priest's magic. "It'd be so much easier if you just gave it up to me." She swung, thrust, jabbed and deflected. "But if you really want to try to deny me my fate, I'll make an example out of you." She unleashed a flurry of furious strikes ending with a satisfying decapitation. "I told you but you had to be stubborn." She picked up the staff and removed the mask. "That'll be a nice addition to the collection." She found a good amount of gold and pocketed that. She looked up at the two dragons, still watching her. She walked back to the pillar and thrust the staff into it's slot. 

The seal disappeared and was replaced by the portal. She stood there for a moment, looking at her predestined path. She wasn't sure if she was ready of what was about to come. This was her time, her day in the annals of Skyrim's history. She knew that as soon as she passed through that a new chapter in her life would start. She inhaled deeply. "This is it, Raveena, " she said to herself. "Hope everyone's faith in me isn't misguided. Talos be with me." 

She closed her eyes and walked into the brilliant light of the portal.


	18. Enter the Dragonslayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena arrives in Sovngarde and starts down the path to fulfill her Dragonborn destiny but her fears sprout as she faces the World-Eater.

Raveena opened her eyes and saw a beautiful twilight filled landscape. The wind blew across the snow gently, whisking snowflakes across the top of her boots. It was eerily quiet as she slowly descended the steps in front of her. A mist blanketed the land hindering her sight; she quietly drew her sword; her eyes constantly scanning her surroundings. 'This isn't right,' she thought to herself. 'Where is everyone? Has Alduin devoured all of their souls already?' She began to see a darkened form emerging from the mist and watched as a Stormcloak soldier emerged, his eyes dark. "Turn back, traveler! Terror waits within this mist," he said in warning. "Many have braved the shadowed vale but vain is all courage against the peril that guards the way." 

Raveena sheathed her sword and asked, "Who are you?" 

"Near Giants Gap, in the gloom before dawn, we marched, unsuspecting into the Imperials' trap. Then we stood and gought, our shield-wall defending until by dawn's light the Legion's ranks wavered. But I never knew nights-end brought victory - a swift flying arrow to Sovngarde carried me." 

She looked around. "What is this mist?" 

"I do not know - but none have passed through. Alduin, his hunger insatiable, hunts the last souls snared within this shadowed valley. Can you lead the way to where Shor's hall waits, beckoning us on to welcome long sought." 

"Shor's Hall?" 

"Don't you know? What drew you here? Surely your dreams showed you the way? The Hall of Valor, where heroes wait to follow Shor to the final battle. I saw it fair when first I tread this long-sought path. The pain and fear vanished, dreamlike, and a vision beckoned - Shor's hall, shimmering across the clouded vale. But quenched was hope by the shrouding mist - my mind is darkened. I've lost the way and wander blindly. Hurry! Before Alduin your life devours bring word to Shor's hall of our hard fate!" 

"Follow me, I'll get you there." She started back on down the path as she thought about what the soldier had said, 'Surely your dreams showed you the way.' Why did that pluck at her brain so? She kept moving forward, every so often seeing shades from both the Stormcloaks and the Legion, all of them lost and frightened. She found her way along a path, using her Clear Skies Shout to make the mist disperse. Eventually she saw a large bridge with it's path blocked by a large man. "Tsun," she said as she remembered the stories told to her by her father. 

"What brings you, wayfarer grim, to wander here in Sovngarde, souls-end, Shor's gift to honored dead?" 

"I wish to enter the Hall of Valor," she answered pointedly. 

Tsun looked at her as if she had just grown a second head in front of him. "No shade are you, as usually here passes, but living, you dare the land of the dead. By what right do you request entry?" 

Raveena removed her helmet and looked the towering man in his eyes, replying "It is my right by birth. I am Dragonborn." 

He smiled as he said, "Ah! It's been too long since last I faced a doom-driven hero the dragon blood. Living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass this perilous bridge 'til I judge them worthy by the warrior's test." And with that he attacked. 

Raveena quickly blocked the blow with her shield at the same time as she drew her sword. Because of her shorter than normal stature Tsun's momentum threw him off balance ever so slightly. As he attempted to quickly compensate for her agility she landed blows along his side, but she had already gained the advantage and she quickly drew a resignation from him. She breathed heavily, a satisfied look upon her features. "I pursue Alduin, the World-Eater." 

"A fateful errand, Dragonborn. No few have chafed to face the Worm since first he set his soul-snare here at Sovngarde's threshold. But Shor restrained our wrathful onslaught - perhaps deep-counselled, your doom he foresaw. You fought well. I find you worthy. It is long since one of the living has entered here. May Shor's favor follow you and your errand." 

She started across the Whalebone Bridge, her heartbeat accelerating. Her fate was approaching faster and faster and she could feel the anxiety building again. Could she defeat the eldest of Akatosh's beastly children? She tried to shake off her fear as she stood before the great doors of the Hall of Valor. She closed her eyes briefly, counted to three and walked in. 

Before her she saw a banquet of a feast with boars being roasted upon huge spits, tables laden down with mead and food upon every plate. She could hear a bard somewhere as well as the sounds of good hearted fighting. Laughter erupted from somewhere within, but it was the Nord approaching her that held her attention. She recognized this to be the legendary Ysgramor, the founder of the Companions. He smiled at her as he approached saying, "Welcome, Dragonborn! Our door has stood empty since Alduin first set his soul-snare here. By Shor's command we sheathed our blades and ventured not the vale's dark mist. But three await your word to loose their fury upon the perilous foe." 

"Who do you speak of?" 

"Gormlaith the fearless, glad-hearted in battle; Hakon the valiant, heavy-handed warrior; Felldir the Old, far seeing and grim." 

A great sense of respect and awe fell upon her; those were the warriors she saw from the Elder Scroll, the ones who Shouted Alduin all these hundreds of years into the future. She saw the three warriors of old across the room and walked towards them, her feet suddenly feeling as if she were wading through a mud pit. Upon her approach, Gormlaith said, "At long last! Alduin's doom is now ours to seal - just speak the word and with high hearts we'll hasten froth to smite the worm wherever he lurks." 

The elder man, Felldir, spoke up, his voice aged with wisdom. "Hold, comrades - let us counsel take before battle is blindly joined. Alduin's mist is more than a snare - its shadowy gloom is his shield and cloak. But with four Voices joined, our valor combined, we can blast the the mist and bring him to battle." 

The redheaded Nord, Hakon, spoke next. "Felldir speaks wisdom - the World-Eater coward, fears you, Dragonborn. We must drive away his mist, Shouting together, and then unsheathe our blades in desperate battle with our black-winged foe." 

Raveena nodded. "Then let us go and slay this beast." 

They began to leave, drawing their weapons. "To battle, my friends!" said Gormlaith, an edge of excitement to her voice. "The fields will echo with the clamor of war, our wills undaunted." They ventured back outside into the mist; as they ran across the Whalebone Bridge, Raveena felt her won exhilaration creep up into her throat, a mixture of excited anticipation with dreaded fear. She heard Tsun say, "The eyes of Shor are upon you this day. Defeat Alduin, and destroy his soul snare" as they passed. 

"We cannot fight the foe in this mist!" came Felldir's cry. 

"Clear Skies - combine our Shouts!" 

The sky echoed with their Shouts and the mist began to dissipate. they looked around searching the skies; suddenly the heavens rumbled "Ven Mul Riik!" The mist quickly reappeared to which Gormlaith commanded them to Shout again with Felldir seconding the order. "Lok... Vah... Koor!" came their Shout, driving the mist away for a second time. Again Alduin's voice spread across the sky returning the mist before them. 

"Does his strength have no end? Is our struggle in vain?" Hakon lamented. 

"Stand fast! His strength is failing!" cried Gormlaithe. "Once more, and his might will be broken!" 

"Again, and we break his grim hold over Shor's realm, and redeem it for eternity!" 

Raveena led the Shout for the third time; as she scanned the horizon she heard the other woman say, "The endless wait gives way to battle! Alduin's doom, his death or ours!" Suddenly she saw the black winged beast approaching, his screeching filling their ears. The ground started shaking as fireballs struck around them. The heroes of old Shouted at Alduin as he screamed by. Raveena sheathed her sword and took a hold of her bow. She nocked an arrow and took aim, releasing it directly into the creature's soft belly. 

"Stand fast!" yelled Hakon. "The fell worm's death is ours at last, the light returns!" 

"We must bring him down!" hollered Raveena over the sounds of fireballs exploded around her; the ground quaked with each hit, making her unsteady on her feet. 

"Use Dragonrend, brothers! Bring him to swords-reach!" 

They nodded in agreement then the sky reverberated with the Shout but Alduin had flown beyond a mountain before he was touched by the Words. Raveena concentrated on her Thu'um; she must bring the dragon down. She watched the crest of the mountain looking for the first sign of her foe. "Come on, fucker," she grumbled under her breath. Then he was there, those wings beating relentlessly; fire erupting from within the depths of its body. Dragonrend came rushing from her and striking the monster full force. "Got you, you bastard," she sneered. She switched to her sword and rushed forward, her companions following. She heard Hakon's cry, "Your doom has come, damned worm!" as Alduin came crashing down before them. It seemed as if those red eyes only sought her out, a fire within that burned hottest for her. 

Her blade ran across the front leg of the beast, she saw blood come to the surface of the thick scaly body. She was rewarded for her actions with a blast of freezing frost followed by the quick snapping of razor sharp teeth as Alduin advanced on her. She couldn't move. She looked into those eyes and saw the souls of those he had already devoured. They screamed for vengeance, they pleaded for retribution, all in agony. She felt the heat of his hunger in his stare and knew he hungered for her blood the most. His eyes called for her, she could hear the gnashing of his teeth as they tore into her, though she stood paralyzed untouched. "You arrogant human," growled the dragon. "I will first feed upon your flesh and quench my thirst with your blood then I shall feast upon your soul to fuel my power before I lay waste to your world." 

All at once she saw Alduin returning to Nirn and laying waste to Riften. She saw the fiery carnage, the bodies burnt and smoldering around the decimated fishing town. Her heart cried out in anguish as she saw Brynjolf crumpled near the grave of their daughter, the very life in him forever extinguished. She saw Windhelm, once so proud, smoke filled and obliterated with the Palace of the Kings crumbling to dust. She saw Ulfric's garden, their garden, everything once so beautiful now blackened beyond recognition. She saw Ulfric before her, his once proud countenance now broken as he stared at her accusingly saying, "We believed in you, Dragonborn. You failed us." She saw all of the people she had befriended in her adventures; they lay across the land from Markarth to Solitude, from Folkwreath to Windhelm, their eyes following her, damning her for letting them down, for delivering them to Alduin. 

Her mind snapped and she screamed "NO!!!!" Her feet discovered mobility once more and her arms remembered how to move. "This is MY fate, to destroy YOU, World-Eater!" She rushed forward, "Yol Toor Shul" erupting forth from deep within her very soul. 

"For Skyrim!" she heard Gormlaith yell. "For Shor!" For Sovngarde's freedom!" 

Alduin's voice rumbled, "You are persistent, Dovahkiin. Pruzah ol aar. A fine slave you would have made," he taunted. 

"Slave this," she snarled as she unleashed a flurry of swift strikes with her sword against the dragon. "It was foretold that the Dragonborn would slay you, beast! Prepare to meet your own fate by the taste of my blade!" 

Alduin was being attacked by all the warriors. The ground was drenched in dragon blood, the air was sickly sweet with the smell and Raveena could taste satisfaction in the back of her throat. Alduin started to falter in his footing; he was thrashing every which way, taking blows from every direction and as well as being pierced by dozens of flying arrows. Raveena saw her chance. She leaped upon the beast's head and dug her heels in. "Zu'u unslaad! Zu'u ni ablaan!" roared Alduin as she raised her sword high above her head, grasping it with both hands. "Destiny can be a bitch." She slammed the sword directly into the center of the skull piercing the massive creature's brain. Blood sprayed everywhere as Alduin started to convulse violently. 

She leaped down and watched the dragon's body begin to smolder then ignite into flames. She closed her eyes in relief. It was over. She had done it. Suddenly the ground shook and Alduin completely disintegrated. Shouts of joy and elation echoed across the field. She saw Tsun approaching and heard him say, "This was a mighty deed! The doom of Alduin encompassed at last, and cleansed is Sovngarde of his evil snare. They will sing of this battle in Shor's hall forever." He looked down at her, his voie more gentler. "But your fate lies elsewhere. When you have completed your count of days, I may welcome you again, with glad friendship, and bid you join the blessed feasting." 

"All hail the Dragonborn! Hail her with great praise!" sounded throughout the valley. 

"When you are ready to rejoin the living just bid me so, and I will send you back," Tsun told her. 

She started to tell him she was ready to return when she was silenced by an approaching man. Her eyes waterd, her heart ached and she ran forward to embrace the younger soldier. "Papa!" 

"My daughter, the Dragonborn. Who would ever had thought?" he said as he smiled at her. "You do me proud, my child. Listen to your heart, daughter. It will not lead you astray." He kissed her forehead. "You have so much more destiny to fulfill, Raveena. Your path is far from over. Return, stand by Ulfric's side and fight for him. Your paths have joined together, you just have not seen it yet."

A tear slipped down her cheek as she whispered, "Yes, Papa. I love you." She hugged him tightly before releasing him and returning to Tsun. With a look back at her father she said softly, "I'm ready." 

"Return to Nirn, with this rich boon from Shor, my Lord; a Shout to bring a hero from Sovngarde in your hour of need." And with that, he Shouted her home.


	19. Bittersweet Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ulfric and Raveena have another honest moment together before they begin their assault on Solitude. Raveena pays another high price in her life.

"We are ready to take the city," Ulfric growled. "What do you mean you don't know where the Dragonborn is?!" He stormed into his tent, a soldier hesitantly two steps behind the angered jarl. "She led the assault on Hraggstad just days ago, did she not?" 

"Ye-ye-yes, sir. She was seen leaving at the end of the battle riding upon her steed; she is not among the injured nor the dead." 

"Then where is she?" he demanded. "Find her!" The young man quickly nodded his head, stammering, "Yes, sir" and rushed out of the tent. 

Ulfric stood there a moment, his chest rising and falling with the heat of his frustration. He had received communiques that Raveena had come down from the mountain, victorious against the World-Eater and then Galmar had sent word that she had arrived at their camp. It was then that Ulfric and a regiment headed out from Windhelm for their assault on Solitude. He had expected her to be here at camp with the men from the fort and as each hour that passed without her return caused him increasing worry. He raged against himself. He needed to focus on the upcoming battle and not be distracted by his growing feelings for his champion. "Damn," he muttered to himself.

"You know, I was thinking the same thing. You were a bit harsh on that poor kid." 

Ulfric spun around to see Raveena in the darkened corner of the tent. "By Talos," he breathed as he crossed the length of the floor and pulled her into an embrace. He held her a moment, perhaps a moment too long but he found himself relishing in the scent of lavender in her hair, then he forced himself to take a step back, releasing her. "I thought something..." he stopped then continued, "Where have you been?" 

"I've been here." She smiled at his bemused look. "I merely didn't want to be seen; this living legend shit is a bit out of control, especially now that Alduin is gone." She sighed then continued, "And I needed time to think about things." 

He sat at his table, motioning for her to follow suit. "What things?" he returned. 

"Destiny. Fate. Life has so many twists and turns that sometimes we forget where we were headed in the first place. It might take something drastic to happen to see clearly. Yet it's not always feasible to attempt to rectify any wrong choices one might have made." She looked at her hands, her ring of marriage glistening in the light of the fire. "My destiny was to slay Alduin. Or so I thought. This land cries out for healing; brothers are fighting and killing each other. We need someone to bring peace back to this world. With the World-Eater destroyed, my destiny seems to be fulfilled but I can do so much more for our fellow man still." 

Ulfric nodded in agreement. "You have my full support, Raveena, of course. What do you propose?" 

"One step at a time, my jarl. We must bring this war to an end. There will need to be counsel taken." She looked him in the eye and continued, "Just know that the Jarl of Windhelm has the full support and backing of the Dragonborn and I fight for you."

He looked at her, bemused. "That must have been quite the trip to Sovngarde. You're going to have to tell me about it at a later time." He watched as she played with the ring on her hand. He found himself lost in wonderment; what was it like to drift into sleep with her body nestled against his; what was it like to wake every morning to the scent of lavender; what was it like to have her love directed at oneself? He had never envied anyone for he had more than enough; he wanted Raveena though and he wanted her all for himself. He knew that she wouldn't leave her husband, that went against everything that she was, he could see that. He could order her far from Windhelm; that would stop the torture he put himself in every day that she was in his city but her absence would leave him lost. Yet every time he was around his spitfire he found himself drunk on her presence and his desire was only to keep imbibing upon it for he was addicted to the very taste of every bit of her essence. 

He realized that she was now watching him; he looked her in the eyes and softly spoke, "I am a powerful man, Raveena. I've never had to ask for anything because it has always been right there for me. Whatever I have ever desired I have gotten. I've had invitations of marriage from nobles from all across the land but I've never desired that level of a relationship. That all changed when you walked into my palace and joined the war. It took me a while to realize what you mean to me." He sighed deeply. "Unfortunately I took too long." 

"Ulfric..." she stopped, looked down briefly at the ring on her finger then back up at him, her lip caught in between her teeth then replied, "We both took too long." She stood up. "It is late, my jarl. We have a city to take tomorrow. Pleasant dreams." 

He watched her walk out of his tent, reflecting upon her words; the weight of their unspoken meaning resting on his heart and mind. He smiled as he thought to himself, "I will have you, my little spitfire." 

##### 

There was a strong smell of smoke in the air. The Stormcloaks had started their assault in the early morning hours before the sun broke the horizon. They had relentlessly bombarded Solitude with balls of fire catapulted across the top of the city walls. Raveena stepped outside the tent, completely outifitted in her trademark ebony armor with her helmet held at her side. She heard the footsteps behind her, knew them to belong to the jarl and looking at the sky said, "Looks like rain." 

Ulfric smiled, barely containing his laughter. "If you so desire it to be, Dragonborn." He looked down at her chestplate and traced the newly engraved bear with the Akaviri symbol for the Dragonborn behind it and said, "This pleases me." 

"The Dragonborn has sworn an oath of fealty to the Jarl of Windhelm just as her father did before her and as your champion warrior I shall stand by your side." She glanced around then said in a softer tone, "I shall protect my Lord with my life for all of my days." 

He stroked her cheek then tilted her head up so he could look into her eyes of ebony. "What happened in Sovngarde, Spitfire? You've changed." 

"I discovered what was worth fighting for. I'll explain later." 

Galmar exited the tent, looked at the tow of them and snickered. "What are we waiting for? You two can make googly eyes at each other after all is said and done!" 

Ulfric lifted his eyebrow at Raveena who just stared at the general, then looked at him and shrugged. The three of them proceeded to Solitude; it was time to storm the city. Ulfric checked the sharpness of the blade on his axe then slipped it onto his hip. He glanced over at his champion who was also checking her weapons sharpness. He noticed that she had opted out of her common companion of a bow but was pleased with her choice of swords and her trusted shield. He noticed that the shield had been worked on as well, the same engravings from her chestplate graced the length of her shield. They found themselves in front of Castle Dour, a large regiment of Stormcloaks before the jarl and the Dragonborn. The three of them looked at the soldiers as they stood at the front. Ulfric looked at Raveena, gave a quick smile, then cleared his throat as he looked back at the troops. 

"This is it men!" he bellowed. "It's time to make this city ours!" Shouts erupted. "We come to this moment carried by the sacrifices and the courage of our fellows. Those who have fallen. And those still bearing the shields to our right." He paused as more shouts rippled through the group. "On this day, our enemy will know the fullness of our determination, the true depth of our anger, and the exalted righteousness of our cause. The gods are watching. The spirits of our ancestors are stirring. And the men under suns yet to dawn will be transformed by what we do here today." Another pause; he glanced at Raveena; he was suddenly struck by how beautiful she was even in full armor and her face set in determination. "Fear neither pain, nor darkness. For Sovngarde awaits those who die with weapons in their hands, and courage in their hearts. We now fight our way to Castle Dour to cut the head of the legion itself! And in that moment, the gods will look down and see Skyrim as she was meant to be. Full of Nords who are might, powerful, and free! Ready now! Everyone with me! For the sons and daughters of Skyrim!" 

Raveena nodded at Ulfric's look of askance. Her Thu'um exploded from her lips, "Strun Bah Qo!" Lightning streaked across the sky as a mighty battle cry erupted amongst the Stormcloaks. The gate was forced open and the men rushed through. She saw a soldier go down just feet in front of her; she put herself in front of Ulfric, her sword in hand. The Imperial was suddenly in front of her, sword in hand; he lunged at her but did not expect the brute force with which she backhanded him with her shield. He stumbled back a step but before he could attack again, her sword had been thrust through his stomach, a look of shock on his face as he looked down to see blood quickly spreading across his uniform. She removed her sword and pushed him over with her foot, his life gone before he hit the ground. 

"Fus Ro Dah!" came Ulfric's Shout from behind her. She saw a trio of soldiers knocked off of their feet and slammed against the wall of Radiant Remnants. She could tell one was dead on impact, the angle of his head proof of his broken neck; the second man had the misfortune of impaling himself upon the first victim's blade. The third soldier cowered and Raveena was positive she could smell the vile smell of fear induced urine as well as human excrement. She glared down upon the man who suddenly crawled into a run as he fled through the city gates. 

"Milk drinker," she said in unison with the jarl. A throng of Legion soldiers rushed the pair. They looked at each other and nodded, "Back to back, Dragonborn." 

The two fought in a seemingly choreographed dance, their fighting skills complimenting each other; they were of one mind as they fought their way further into the city. She heard Ulfric taunting the enemy saying, "You call yourself a warrior? You want me to close my eyes? Would that even things up a little?" 

"You are such an ass, my Liege," she said in between strikes. He gave a laugh in response. 

They made their way toward the hill where the Legion was housed; it was a bloody path with the corpses of Legionnaires laid across boulders. She had a soldier rush her and when she deflected him, he found himself laying in the middle of a fire, a stake through his chest. She snorted at him then called to Ulfric, waving towards the crest of the hill, "This way!" as she ran up the incline, crashing her sword into the barricade. They combined their Shouts; the Imperials stared at the two warriors, both gifted with The Voice and suddenly feared the power of the combined Thu'ums and many started to run in an attempt to escape. 

"Well that was fun, wouldn't you agree, Ulfric?" she asked sarcastically as they approached the doors. He laughed then opened the door. 

Galmar, Raveena and Ulfric strode into Castle Dour. They sheathed their weapons and Galmar secured the door. They heard the voice of Legate Rikke coming from within telling Ulfric to stop. He sneered at her voice and replied, "Stop what? Taking Skyrim back from those who'd leave her to rot?" They entered the large room, the Legate standing in front of a resigned Tullius. 

"You're wrong, Ulfric. We need the Empire. Without it Skyrim will assuredly fall to the Dominion." 

Galmar growled. "You were there with us. You saw it. The day the Empire signed that damn treaty was the day the Empire died." 

"You're a damn fool," she said with her arms crossed in front of her.

Galmar shook his head saying, "Stand aside, woman. We've come for the General." 

She shook her head. "He has given up. But I have not." 

Raveena heard the slight tenderness in Ulfric's voice and looked at her. "Rikke," he said. "Go. You're free to leave." She realized that there was a history between the three of them, the jarl, the general and the Legate. 

"I'm also free to stay and fight for what I believe in." 

Ulfric's voice suddenly shifted as he said harshly, "You're also free to die for it." 

The Legate's eyes looked wounded, she ventured on, valiantly trying to make Ulfric see her side. "This is what you wanted? Shield brothers and sisters killing each other? Families torn apart? This is the Skyrim you want?" 

"Dammit woman," came the gravelly voice of Galmar, "stand aside." 

"That's not the Skyrim I want to live in," she said. 

There was a pleading to Ulfric's voice as he said, "Rikke. You don't have to do this." 

"You've left me no choice... Talos preserve us." She reached for her own sword. 

Raveena jumped into action, her sword swiftly coming out of its scabbard. She swung her blade against Rikke's , the ebony sword sending sparks at the connection. Ulfric Shouted, knocking her down. "Rikke," he pleaded again as she regained her footing and spun towards the jarl, "please." 

Rikke lunged at Ulfric and Raveena's sword found its way across her neck. Blood sprayed as the woman's head flew across the room, her corpse crumpling and blood pooling immediately underneath. She looked at Ulfric and was thankful for her helmet; she had a feeling that Ulfric would not appreciate the blood lust in her eyes from the killing of the Legate. She turned and looked at Tullius; she sheathed her sword. 

Ulfric looked at the general. "This is it for you. Any last words before I send you to Oblivion?" 

The general wiped blood from his lips. "You realize this is exactly what they wanted?" 

"What you wanted?" Galmar asked. 

"The Thalmor," he snapped. "They stirred up trouble here. Forced us to divert needed resources and throw away good soldiers quelling this rebellion." 

Ulfric snorted. "It's a little more than a rebellion, don't you think?" 

Tullius spit blood on the ground. "We aren't the bad guys, you know." 

"Maybe not, but you certainly aren't the good guys." 

"Perhaps you're right. But then what does that make you?" 

"You just said it yourself." 

"And if I surrender?" 

Ulfric sneered. "The Empire I remember never surrendered." 

Tullius looked down, knowing he was right. "So be it." 

Galmar grumped, "Just kill him and let's be done with it, already." 

Ulfric took on a sadistic attitude. "Come, Galmar. Where's your sense of the dramatic moment?" 

"By the gods! Itf it's a good ending to some damn story you're after - perhaps the Dragonborn should be the one to do it." 

Raveena watched as Ulfric approached her. "Well, Spitfire. What do you say? Do you want the honor?" 

Raveena thought of her vengeance and nodded. "I'll gladly kill him." She walked up to the man, removing her helmet as she did so. "Do you remember me, Tullius? YOu were going to take my head at Helgen." He looked at her, blood dripping into his eyes from a blow he took to the head from Galmar's battleaxe. "Do you know who I am, beside being the Dragonborn?" She drew her sword and held the tip at his throat. "We've met long before then, but you might not recognize me. It has been many years since you and your men came across a woman with her young child, a little girl who only wanted to catch butterflies. You were after the woman but you killed her daughter instead." She watched as his eyes grew larger and larger. "My name is Raveena of Markarth, daughter of Brettel Snow-Shield." 

"Forgive me," he whispered. 

"As you took the life of my child, as you took the life of my mother, I take your's." She plunged her sword through, removed it and then kicked the body over. She looked at the jarl, tears in her eyes. "Thank you." 

Ulfric stared at her in shock. "All this time... you never said anything." He wiped a tear from her cheek. "I'm sorry." He cleared his throat and continued. "The men will expect a speech. Will you stand by my side? I wish to honor you, Dragonborn and the truest of Stormcloaks." 

"Our path are linked, Ulfric. I will always stand by your side." 

"Ahem," Galmar inserted. "I'll go gather the men in the courtyard." 

"And Elisif?" Ulfric asked, still looking down at his champion. 

"Don't you worry about her. I've sent my best men to round her up." 

"Good. I'll be there shortly." He waited for Galmar to leave the room, then addressed his champion. "Why did you not say anything?" 

"It's a long story, one that needs to be told another time, but I promise you I will tell you. I'll tell you everything." 

#####

Raveena stepped outside the castle door; the smoke filled sky was starting to clear as Stormcloaks went through the city extinguishing the fires alongside the citizens of Solitude. She saw Elisif amongst Stormcloak soldiers, her face set in a grim frown. As Ulfric stepped out behind the Dragonborn, shouts erupted from the soldiers gathered there; what citizens were there watched in bated antcipation. He walked towards the center of the yard, Raveena following behind him, keeping an eye on the growing crowd of people. 

Galmar said in a thunderous voice, "And now, I present to you, Ulfric Stormcloak, hero of the people, liberator and High King of Skyrim!" 

Another roar of elated shouts went through the crowd. She watched as Ulfric waited a moment, listening to his people before raising his hand, signaling for silence. As it died down he began, "I am indeed Ulfric Stormcloak, and at my side the woman we know as Stormblade, and as the world knows as the Dragonborn. And indeed, there are many that call us heroes." The crowd roared with shouts of "Huzzah!". "But it is all of you who are the true heroes. It was you who fought a dying Empire who sunk its claws into our land, trying to drag us down with it. It was you who fought the Thalmor and their puppets who would have us deny our gods and our heritage. It was you who fought your kin who didn't understand our cause, who weren't willing to pay the price of our freedom. But more than that, it was you who fought for Skyrim, for our right to fight our own battles... To return to our glory and traditions, to determine our own future!" More shouts of "Huzzah!" "And it is for these reasons that I cannot accept the mantle of 'High King'. Not until the Moot declares that title should adorn my shoulders will I accept it." 

A soldier in the back hollered out, "And what about Jarl Elisif?" 

Ulfric glanced at Elisif, a smile playing on his lips. "Yes, what about the Lady Elisif?" He paused letting the crowd digest that he did not refer to the widow by the title of jarl. He watched as she tried to conceal her gnawing fear of her fate; she had watched him kill her husband. "Will she put aside her personal hatred for me, and her misplaced love for the Empire and its coin, so that the suffering of our people will end? Will she acknowledge, that it is we Nords who will determine Skyrim's future? Will she swear fealty to me, so all may know that we are at peace, and a new day has dawned?" 

Her eyes lit up as she responded, "I do!" 

"Then it is settled. The Jarl," he emphasized the title as he openly smiled at Elisif, "will continue to rule Solitude, I will garrison armies here to ward off IMperial attacks to reclaim the city. And in due time, the Moot will met, and settle the claim to High King once and for all. There is much to do, and I need every able bodied man and woman committed to rebuilding Skyrim. A great darkness is growing, and soon we will be called to fight it, on these shores or abroad. The Aldmeri Dominion may have defeated the Empire, but it has not defeated Skyrim!" 

As the group hollered their praises, Ulfric walked towards the doors of the castle, Raveena by his side and Galmar coming up the side. They stood by the door and the jarl addressed his general. "How'd I do?" He hated having to give speeches, he was good at it but he considered it to be a necessary evil that he had to accept. 

"Eh, not so bad. Nice touch about the High King." 

"Thank you, I thought so, too." 

"It's a foregone conclusion, you know." 

"Oh, I know." 

"The Imperials aren't going to leave us alone. They still have camps in the hills. They'll continue to strike out at us, whenever and wherever they can." 

Ulfric snorted and said, "I'm not afraid of the remnants of the Legion, in time they'll all give up and go home. What I fear, is that the Thalmor will see our victory here and turn greater attion to our shores. We must be prepared to face them." 

There was a sudden ruckus amongst the crowd, the soldiers shouting, "Halt! Thief!" and the sounds of swords being drawn. Raveena and Galmar quickly had their weapons in hand and advancing toward the sound. Suddenly she saw Vex's blond face in the middle and cried out, "Stop! Stand down!" and she sheathed her own sword. The soldiers stepped back, releasing the thief who rushed forward. 

"Vex, what's wrong? What are you doing here?" 

"You need to come with me. We mustn't lose time." 

Ulfric stood next to his champion eyeing the woman in the Thieves Guild uniform. "is everything alright, Dragonborn?" 

"Vex? What's going on?" 

"It's Brynjolf, Raveena." She hesitated then it rushed out. "He's dead."


	20. Numb*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena reels from the loss of Brynjolf; Windhelm celebrates Ulfric's victory and Ulfric and Raveena spend a moment alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I was very dissatisfied with this chapter so I decided to add to it.

The ride to Riften was a blur. Ulfric had refused to let Raveena return return there alone, regardless if Vex was with her or not. He ordered a small contingent of guards to accompany the women and himself to the city. Raveena barely noticed anything as they rode through the night and into the morning; she was merely going through the motions and was relying on Vex and Ulfric to tell her what she needed to do. It was Ulfric who had caught her when she collapsed at Vex's revelation; it was Ulfric who had carried her into the castle and ordered the healers to attend to her; it was the jarl who took charge of the situation as his champion slipped further into despondency and that was why he refused to leave her side. It was the jarl who stood next to her as she stood in front of the Hall of the Dead, hesitating to cross the threshold, her hand resting on the door. She glanced up towards the Temple where just a couple months previous she had vowed in front of Mara and her friends that she gave herself freely to Brynjolf; tears spilled down her face again. 

"Raveena," came the soft voice of the jarl, "you don't have to -" 

"I must do this," she said, cutting him off. "I will not believe he is gone if I do not see him for myself." 

"Raveena," came Vex's concerned voice, "don't do this to yourself. You don't want to remember him like this." 

Her eyes closed as she thought of what Vex had told her. "He was ambushed on his way back to Windhelm, hadn't gotten much further than Goldenglow. Rune happened to be not far away when it happened, but he barely made it out himself. Sapphire is bringing him to the Temple of Kynareth. Rune said it was dark elves; they used their magic, Raveena. He doesn't... They burned him." With a deep breath, she opened the door. 

Their footfalls echoed as they walked through the cobblestone hall, their breath visible in the coldness of the place. In the distance they could hear the voice of the priestess Alessandra as she examined a body, a body they all knew to be Brynjolf. As they drew closer, Alessandra's voice became clearer as they heard her say "...there's another gash, that makes four stab wounds. It's becoming obvious that he gave quite the fight before they lit him on fire." 

A small cry escaped Raveena and Ulfric cleared his throat, saying sternly, "Priestess." 

The Imperial woman turned to see the trio. Recognizing Raveena immediately she blanched. "My apologies, Dragonborn. My sincerest condolences How may I be of service to you?" 

"I need a moment with him. I must..." 

"Of course. Take as long as you need." 

Vex turned and started to follow the priestess out but hesitated when Ulfric did not move. Rather he put his hand on Raveena's shoulder saying, "Spitfire...?" Her only response was to reach up and take a hold of his hand and grasp it tightly. He looked at Vex and nodded. Vex's eyes narrowed as she retreated with Alessandra. 

After a moment she said, "I met Brynjolf after Vogner died. I thought that I could lift some things off of him while he slept where he had made camp. Problem was he knew I was there the entire time. I wasn't as stealthful as I am now back then, especially when it came to a guy who had lived most of his life with the Thieves Guild. I never was able to sneak up on him." She smiled as she thought aloud, "Though I did get the drop on him unintentionally when he ran into me at the Bee and Barb." A tear streaked down her cheek at the memory. "He became my teacher, first as my mentor in the Guild then as my lover. He was my first real love, not some young maiden's crush. I was happy. But the gods took that happiness away when my Brenna was taken from me and Bryn. That's when I went to Cyrodiil. I was running from the pain that seemed to be everywhere here." She shook her head sadly. "Brynjolf was a wonderful man, Ulfric. He didn't deserve this." She started crying again, falling back upon him. 

Ulfric drew her into an embrace. "Then his death shall be avenged," he said as he held her to his chest, wishing he could erase her pain. "Come, Raveena. You have seen with your own eyes that he is gone. Let me take you home." She nodded her agreement. 

#####

They stayed in Riften long enough for Raveena to bury Brynjolf next to Brenna. She left the Guild under Delvin's tutelage with instructions that he would take her place as Guildmaster if something were to happen to her. She kneeled next to the grave of her husband before leaving, Ulfric watching from afar, his own mood somber. Her grief the past few days struck him deep to the core and all he could do was be a shoulder for her to lean on. He watched as she kissed her fingers and placed her fingers on Brynjolf's headstone, then repeated the action but on the headstone next to his. 

"Thank you, Ulfric, for all that you've done." 

"Of course, Raveena. Are you ready to return home to Windhelm?" 

She nodded as she said, "Yes. I just had to say goodbye." 

#####

Ulfric and Raveena passed through the city gates to a festive atmosphere, the citizens were celebrating in the streets, on could hear the drunken lively festivities within Candlehearth Hall, and while the jarl could find no fault with the people celebrating, he knew Raveena had no reason to celebrate. They walked in silence towards the palace, both drained from the events of the past week, but both stopped at the Temple. In an unspoken agreement they entered and sat in the first pew. It was Raveena that broke the silence. "I cannot go back to Hjerim yet, Ulfric. I'm not ready." 

"They stay at the Palace. I'll have Jorlief ready you a room. Stay as long as you need."  
"Thank you," she whispered then drifted into silence again. 

Ulfric thought of how things had turned for them. While he had desired her and wanted her for himself, even though he had not fully accepted that she had married Brynjolf and was seemingly happy with her choice despite her own feelings for him, he found himself hurting to see her in such emotional pain. He was at a loss now; would his genuine concern for her be seen as such or would Raveena not trust his motives. He glanced at her just as she glanced at him. "I'm ready to go if you are, my Lord." He nodded, stood and held out his hand for her. 

#####

That evening after Raveena slept and bathed, she found herself standing at the door that led to the garden. She remembered how Ulfric had told her how he'd come out here to get away from the life inside sometimes; she knew this was where she needed to be right at this moment. She walked through the doors and walked out into the cool night air. She sat upon a bench in front of a large patch of dragons tongue and breathed in the heavy scent. Her heart was shattered into so many pieces at Brynjolf's death. Her heartache was an endless abyss that kept pushing her further and further down. Was she to forever have to endure the pain until her day came? All of those she loved were taken from her. What Divine or Daedric prince was so wrathful to her from moment of her birth that she had been deprived of a family? 

She could sense Ulfric before he stood next to where she sat. Even through her most despondent times this past week, she was very aware of the jarl always being there, watching over her and protecting her. He had unknowingly become her anchor in this whirlpool of sadness. "It is very peaceful out here," she said nonchalantly as she motioned for him to sit next to her. 

He smiled in agreement, sitting next to her. "How did you sleep?" 

"I slept but I found little solace in my dreams. I know it will take some time." She looked at him, her eyes trying to hide her pain. "You should not be holed up in the palace while your people celebrate." 

"Neither should you, Dragonborn. You are the reason we won the war. You will be the reason we will keep the Empire out of Skyrim. The people will be elated to see their victorious jarl but they also want to see their champion." He reached for her hand, holding it gently. "But only if you so desire." 

She looked at their joined hands, noting how his rough hands could feel so gently upon her skin. She considered staying away from all the celebrations throughout the city but Ulfric was right. The people needed to see their heroes, both Ulfric and herself. She nodded and replied with a smile on her graceful face, "Then the Dragonborn shall not disappoint."

#####

Raveena walked into the main hall of the palace to find that no expense had been spared for this gala celebration. Blue streamers were strung along with walls with large white ribbons cascading down the sides. The tables were overflowing with food and drink which many a noble were helping themselves to. Music was being sung and played while people mingled amongst one another. The people of Windhelm were exuberant in the victory of their jarl; they knew little of the cost this victory took. 

Ulfric was by his throne when he saw her enter, dressed in his finest attire. He had been speaking with one of the nobles but lost his train of thought when he gazed upon his champion entering the room. She stood there in an elegant fine teal dress trimmed in silver and her hair was up swept into a crowned bun of braids that laid upon her wavy hair, wisps of fire red curls hung alongside her face. He found himself holding his breath and exhaled; he excused himself and made his way to Raveena. He smiled at her as he approached, he could not help himself as he stared at her searing beauty. "Dragonborn," he greeted, his rich deep timbre echoing off of the walls causing people to turn and look at the two.

"Jarl Ulfric," she replied, very aware of the stares they were receiving.

Lowering his voice he said appreciatively, "You look absolutely outstanding. I might have to have a guard assigned to you tonight just to make sure no one tries to whisk you away."

She gave a smile while saying, "If anyone were to try to whisk me away I dare say that they're going to be needing a healer more than me needing a guard." She glanced at him slyly, a mischievous look in her eyes, "Or does my jarl think that I have grown soft and that his little spitfire cannot handle these mere nobles?"

"I know you can; the guard would be there for their protection."

Raveena started to laugh though he could see the pain shadowed on her face. He was glad she was here though he knew she was not ready for so much. Her husband's death was merely a week past and while she put on the appearance that she was getting through it, Ulfric knew better for he could see the haunted look in her eyes, even now. He promised himself that he would be making this a short evening for her so she didn't stretch herself thin. He smiled at her laughter and said, "I hope to hear more of that sound from you tonight, Raveena."

A glimmer of amusement peeked out from behind the wall of pain as she smiled back at him saying, "I do, too."

For the next few hours they mingled with the nobles and guests, each being asked questions about the war, what was in store for Skyrim and what they themselves planned on doing to help the people. As the night dragged on Raveena found herself longing for it be over. She stifled a yawn but not before Ulfric could see it. He made his way to her and made up an excuse about needing to speak to her in private. They exited through the war room and he walked her up the stairs. "I do not want you to overwhelm yourself with tonight. You have made an appearance and have spoken to the people informally, that is all that I could have possibly asked of you tonight."

"Thank you for your kindness, my jarl. I do not think that I could have put up with much more rubbing of the elbows. I have no stomach for a sea of facades in noble life. I truly see the advantages to the garden."

Chuckling he responded, "You remind me of my mother. She never truly adapted to this life, though I truly believe that that was intentional on her part." He opened the door to her room, allowing her entrance first. 

"I would have liked your mother I think." She smiled weakly as she looked at him. "She never let her position in life change her, did she?"

He shook his head as he said, "No, she didn't. There were many things that the servants could have handled but she refused to let them. Father loved that about her. That's why he never remarried after her passing. He knew that a woman whose heart and love so pure and true was a scarce thing and one that one might find only but once in a lifetime. He doubted he would find anyone that could hold a candle to her and he had no desire to replace my mother." 

Raveena faced Ulfric and looked him in the eyes. "Do you love like that?"

A smile played on his lips and touched his eyes. "Yes, I do."

"Have you found a woman who loves you the same way?" She tilted her head up toward him.

"I believe I have," he answered, his voice edged with desire as he breathed in her smell.

She reached up and curled her fingers into his hair as she looked into his eyes. He could see the desire in her eyes, the desire he had sensed within her for a while now. She was beckoning him with those eyes of ebony and his body was responding to his returning lust. He could see her beneath him, welcoming him into her once forbidden embrace, crying out to him to make her whole again, to fix her broken soul. He took her mouth in his, tasting her honeyed lips and felt the unbridled passion clawing at the gates for release and began to lose himself in his own growing want.

Suddenly he broke the kiss and stepped back; his breathing coming in short and jagged breaths as his heart beat hard and fast against the walls of his chest. He looked at his champion, the woman who had captured his heart and gently stroked her face. "We cannot do this now, Raveena," he said softly. "It is too soon. It would be wrong of me to do so, despite how much I crave you and your touch. I am sorry, my Spitfire."

She closed her eyes as she nodded in dejected agreement. "Forgive me," she whispered as she turned away and went to the wardrobe and proceeded to look for a change of clothing. "Thank you for tonight, my jarl."

He watched her for a moment, his heart suddenly pained. "Raveena.... " he started then hesitated. He shook his head then said, "Until the morn, then. Good night."

"Good night, my Lord," she responded. She didn't move until she heard her door shut, then she collapsed on the bed and cried.


	21. The Past Comes to Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raveena finds out startling news which makes her tell Ulfric of her past.

Raveena woke with a start. Her hand shot to her dagger she had placed on the end table next to the bed before her beast blood picked up the identifying smells of her secret visitor, a scent that made her think of the halls that held the dead within their walls with their preserved bodies and the ever present stench of dirt and death. Her ears picked up the slow inhalations of breath but she could hear no heartbeat; a vampire. "Babette!" she cried out. "How'd you get into the palace?" 

"Really, Listener?" came a voice from the shadows. "With all the celebrating throughout the ciry the guards pay little attention to a child looking for her inebriated parents inside the palace." The vampire caught in her youth for all eternity sat on the bed and looked at her. 

Raveena couldn't help but chuckle. "And this is why you're such an accomplished assassin; no one ever suspects a 'child'." 

"It's the subject of assassination that brings me here, Raveena." The girl looked at the woman, her eyes serious and said, "Someone put a contract out on Jarl Ulfric." 

"Who?" she demanded as she climbed out of bed and headed to the dresser where a basin of water was; she proceeded to wash the sleep from her eyes. 

"The same people who are responsible for your husband's murder." 

At that Raveena dropped the towel she had been drying her face off with and a pang of hurt crossed her face. Her voice cracked as she asked, "You know who is responsible for Bryn's death?" 

"Nazir was able to find out who ordered it when the bastard tried to use the fact that he had been hired to eliminate those close to the Dragonborn as bragging rights. He was trying to become a member of our family; apparently he was unaware that the Dragonborn listens to the Night Mother." 

Raveena spun around suddenly, her eyes wide with the idea of the person responsible for her husband's death being locked up in the torture room of the Dawnstar Sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood. "Who ordered the contract on Brynjolf? And where is this hopeful recruit now?" 

"Somehow he slipped away from Nazir. And as for who... he said it was the Penitus Oculatus that has been hunting you down, that they will take everyone you hold dear from you and that they've been ordered to do so by someone else but he didn't say who that person was." 

"I need to inform Ulfric," she said as she quickly dressed. 

"About that..." 

She stopped and looked at her friend, "What do you mean, 'About that'?" 

"Raveena, I might have the body of a ten year old but remember I am over 300 years old. I've seen many people in love and many people in lust. When you talk about Jarl Ulfric, there's a look that comes over you that screams you love him." 

The Nord stared at the Breton. "He was a childhood crush." 

"Don't give me that bullshit. It might have started as a childhood crush but this working with him as a Stormcloak and fighting under his banner stirred those coals and it is so much more than that now, isn't it?" When Raveena hesitated she continued, "I'm not saying that you didn't love Brynjolf. Even the blind could see that the love you two shared was true and pure. The fact of the matter is that the love you have for both of them has been and always will be true and pure, but the love is just on different levels." 

"Why do I feel like I'm betraying Bryn by admitting that love for Ulfric then?" she asked more to herself than to Babette as she pulled her boots on. 

"Only you know the answer to that." 

Raveena looked at her friend dejectedly. "I need to go warn Ulfric about this assassination plot. I'm thinking that perhaps it'd be best if you stayed in here right now, I'm not sure how he's gonna feel about having a vampire within the palace walls." 

"He doesn't seem to mind having a werewolf here," she mumbled in response causing Raveena to stop short in front of the door. "Oh, you thought that I couldn't tell? You smell like   
Arnbjorn did and no, not like wet dog. It's wild and musky, very earthy. Us vampires and your werewolf kin share that in common, we both have senses that get heightened due to our transformations." 

"Bryn was the only person outside of the Circle that knew. Or so I thought." 

"Oh no, Arnbjorn and I both knew immediately; we talked about it a few times before that awful day. But I won't say anything, Raveena. That's for you to tell people." She flashed a smile, her fangs prominent. 

"Thank you, Babette. I'll return soon." 

##### 

 

Raveena knocked on the door to Ulfric's bedroom, then pushed open the door as she walked in. The jarl looked up at the unexpected intrusion and upon seeing his champion he said, "I seem to recall being told that a kiss did not afford one the luxury of freely entering one's bedroom." 

Her eyes slightly narrowed then said, "It's been brought to my attention that there is a contract out for any and all of those that the Dragonborn holds dear, including you, Ulfric." 

"Plots of assassination go hand in hand with war. I'm going to assume that it is not the Brotherhood who has the contract on my life," he said flatly.

"No, the Brotherhood discovered the plot and it was brought to my attention immediately. In fact it was during this revelation that we have gained information on my late husband's killer." 

"And what that might be, Spitfire?" 

She walked across the room and sat at the table. "The Penitus Oculatus has the orders to kill those close to me." 

Ulfric stared at her. "The Emperor's elite personal guard? They know that you are the one who killed Titus Mede?" 

She sighed heavily. "I think you should sit down, my Jarl." At his look of askance she continued, "I told you that I would tell you everything. This is not the time I intended on telling you this now but the Gods have decided that I must tell you my story." She waited until he sat down and then she began. 

"Many years ago before he became Emperor, Titus Mede took a liking to a young Nord maiden in service to him at his grand palace in the Imperial City. His dalliance resulted in her becoming with child and early the next year she gave birth to a baby girl. This baby grew up among the horde of children born to the servants, never knowing who her father was. As a young woman she fell in love with one of the Imperial soldiers that had been stationed within the Imperial City. Mede found out about his illegitimate child carrying on with a soldier from Skyrim and ordered the soldier to be reassigned far away from there. What he didn't plan on was his daughter running away with her lover. It was then that she received a letter from her mother telling her the tale of her birth. Angered at her mother's keeping the truth of her parentage from her, angered at the fact that her father who didn't care enough about her to be in her life as a child was suddenly trying to dictate her life, she refused to return. Then she became with child and instead of the Emperor leaving things the way they were, he tried to have her kidnapped and brought back. He tried this multiple times during her pregnancy and after the birth of her daughter. It was in one of those attempts that a young soldier so eager to impress his Emperor ended up killing the Emperor's daughter." She took a deep breath and looked at Ulfric. She could see the wheels turning in his head as her words started to sink in. "Her name was Nareen and she was my mother. Why the Penitus Oculatus has made it their job to kill all those in connection with my mother I do not know but it has kept me running my entire life. And from what Babette has told me, they are operating on orders from someone other than Emperor Mede; that much is evident by the fact that Mede is dead and they're still coming after me and those who are dear to me." 

"Like me." 

She hung her head down and nodded. "Like you." 

Ulfric sat there, his thoughts spinning as her revelations were laid open for him. "Wow," he finally managed to say. "The Emperor's granddaughter. And you killed him?" 

"Yes, I did. I took his head clean off of his neck. His blood decorated the walls of his quarters on that ship. He ignored his daughter, had her chased down like an animal, tried to cover up her killing, and then allowed his granddaughter to be hunted. And you can bet your ass that I made sure he knew who I was." 

"How did your people come across this information?" 

"Apparently a man was trying to gain entry to the Brotherhood and was bragging to Nazir about killing the husband of the Dragonborn." 

"And where is this man now?" 

"Somehow he slipped away." 

"Then we discover who he is and where he is. And then we find out what he knows and who is calling the shots." He looked at her, a smile touching his lips. "We will gather information by any means necessary. You have the Brotherhood behind you as well as the Thieves Guild. You have reliable men within those organizations who can get the needed information." 

"I also have the Companions at my side," she said flatly, ignoring the look on his face but saying, "I am the Harbinger. At least until next full moon, then Vilkas will be, but I will still be counted among Ysgramor's Companions." She shrugged. "I seem to recall being told that you knew more about me than I realized you did." 

He smiled. "We will employ every avenue to gain information. We will end what they started." 

"We need to increase your guard until this is resolved." 

"Galmar has already increased the guard due to our victory in Solitude. But I will bring this to his attention." He reached over and placed his hand over hers, giving it a slight squeeze. "You will have your revenge for the deaths of all of those they took from you. Whatever you need, all you need to do is ask and I shall do anything for you that is within my power." 

"I know. Our paths are forever entwined, Ulfric," she said reflecting on the words of her father in Sovngarde. "It is our destiny."


	22. A Great Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Babette hunts outside Windhelm, Ulfric and Raveena have a moment to themselves.

That night Raveena sat in her room at the palace with Babette, the two of them writing letters to contacts throughout Skyrim, trying to dig into every hole that they could in find out any kind of information and keeping every single one of Ulfric's couriers busy long into the night. She had told Babette her story that she had told Ulfric as they worked through the day and into the evening. At some point she had answered a knock at the door to see Jorleif standing there with one of the maids with a few trays laden down with braided breads, cheese wedges, some bowls of vension stew and plates of roasted elk, a couple bottles of Black-Briar Mead as well as a fresh new pitcher of water; she hurriedly accepted the trays and rushed them back out of the room. Babette sat in the shadows, a mysterious figure cloaked in darkness, aware of all while all were unaware of her. 

It was late when Ulfric knocked on Raveena's door; she hesitated before stepping aside to allow him entrance. "You have been running my couriers ragged today, Spitfire," he said as he sat down while placing a small stack of papers on top of the table next to him. "You have already received some replies." 

She picked up the stack of papers and started to skim through them, noting certain points. She nodded and tapped one in particular saying, "Rune says that he did see a Pentius Oculatus officer involved in the attack on Brynjolf. He sent a description in this letter as well. Babette," she called out, enjoying the look of surprise on the jarl's face as he looked around the room, "read this and tell me if the description matches Nazir's braggart." 

The young Breton stepped out from the shadows near the head of Raveena's bed, the red in her eyes glinting from the flames within the hearth beside her. She smiled slightly at the jarl, just enough to reveal the pointy ends of her teeth, then turned to Raveena and took the paper from her. She stood there a moment reading the letter then she looked off into her memory as she recalled the man who she had seen with Nazir and nodded. "Sounds like our guy." 

"Alright," she said as she looked wearily at her friend, "we send this description out to all of the Brotherhood wherever they might be and let it be known that he is to be brought to me alive. I'll send it to Delvin in Riften and have him circulate the description to the members of the Guild; they'll contact you or Nazir if they find him. In a few weeks time I need to travel to Whiterun to oversee the naming of Vilkas as the new Harbinger; I'll take that opportunity to pass on the information on Brynjolf's murder and employ the use of the Companions to find this milk-drinker piece of filth." She rubbed her eyes. "I need to rest." 

Babette smiled at her and replied, "I am well rested. Perhaps I shall go hunt." She darted a mischievous glance at the jarl before continuing, "There's plenty of deer in the area and small game I can feast upon." 

Rolling her eyes Raveena replied, "Yes, there's plenty of wild game outside the city walls. Go feast upon one of the beasts out there. I'm sure Jarl Ulfric would much rather you feed upon one of his elk before you feast upon one of his citizens." She smiled slightly then watched as her friend drew the hood up on her cloak, the Breton smirking the entire time.

Once Babette left the room, Ulfric looked at Raveena. "You do not cease to amaze me, Spitfire. But then again, nothing should surprise me wherever you are concerned." He sat back and eyed her as she skimmed through more of the responses. She seemed unaware of his looking and he enjoyed seeing her with so many of her defenses down; he noted several little quirks about her that he had never noticed before, like how she tended to play with her Talos amulet as she appeared lost in thought and how she tended to tap her index finger on something when she was reading. Occasionally a strand of hair would fall into her eyes and she would reach up and tuck it behind her ear, seemingly unaware that she blew out a breath of irritation whenever she had to do so. He thought of last night and how she had been more than willing to give herself to him. There was a time when he would have never dreamed of turning a woman away from his bed, but Raveena was not just some woman to conquer; he realized that now. Yet the look in her eyes when he had turned her away had haunted him all night and he needed to make it right with her.

She looked up at him, catching his eyes. They sat in silence for a moment, never looking away but at each other. She set the papers down and brought a chair in front of him and sat down, just out of arms length. "I saw my father in Sovngarde, right before Tsun sent me back. I'd have given anything to stay and speak to him but... " She trailed off then cleared her throat. "He told me to fight by your side and for you; said our paths are intertwined."

Ulfric chuckled as he responded, "That much has become very evident as of late, my Spitfire." He gave a smile then continued, "Would that be the reason behind the engraving on your armor?" She nodded to which his smile grew despite himself. "And your feelings for me, Raveena?"

"The same as they have always been, just no longer denied." She ran her hands through her hair. "What began as a young girl's fancy eventually grew into a love that I wasn't prepared for, nor did I truly realize that it even existed. It was your continuing encouragement and friendship throughout my preparing to meet Alduin that became the driving force that saw me through that battle. And you being there for me when I found out about Brynjolf..." Her voice trailed off as a single tear escaped her eye, her thoughts on her husband buried less than one week previous. "I am truly thankful for you being here for me."

"Where else would I be? Raveena, you have held me captive since I sat next to you on that cart to Helgen. Neither one of us knew that day that we would stand together as heroes a few short years later. You and I have forged a relationship that has grown into an intense friendship and that friendship is obvious to all. What kind of friend would I have been had I abandoned you at the time of our victory when you had just lost your husband? No thanks are needed, my Spitfire."

"Where do we go from here, Ulfric?" she asked suddenly, alluding to their relationship by stressing the word "we".

He looked at her and then leaned forward and asked in return, "Where do you want us to go, Spitfire? What do you want?"

She sighed and stood up. "I'm not sure where I want us to go. What do I want? I want to know what happiness is without having it taken away from me. I want to live my life without bowing down to other's expectations of what I'm suppose to be and do. I want what has been denied me since I was a child. I want -" She stopped when she felt Ulfric's hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him; she had never even heard him get up and walk to her.

"I think you know exactly where you want us to go," he said softly as he stroked her cheek with his finger, trailing it to her lips. His eyes were soft as he looked into her's but he couldn't disguise the longing that resided within them. She started to speak but he silenced her by lightly kissing her lips. His hands ran down her arms until he held her hands in his, all the while trailing kisses along her jawline. She tilted her head back, eyes closed, reminding herself to breathe as she lost herself to the growing anticipation of his touch.

He pushed her against the wall while kissing her bared neck, bringing her hands above her head and pinning her in place. Holding both her hands with one of his, he used his free hand to cup her face as he kissed her lips again, his kisses becoming more and more demanding as now he thrust his tongue into her mouth, exploring it fully. He traced his finger along her neckline, his hand slowly encircling her throat, slightly tightening as his desire grew stronger. A deep lust filled groan echoed in the back of her throat as she returned his hungry kisses with her own. He went to break the kiss but she leaned into him, demanding not to be turned away tonight.

He released his hold on her hands but did not move away nor break their kiss. Instead he picked her up and brought her to the bed. He set her gently down, slowly breaking the kiss. His desire was pulsating against reason, insisting on its long awaited release. He knew that if he went past this point there'd be no turning back, that their relationship would never be the same. His eyes, questioning, searched her face; she answered by loosening his pants drawing a passionate moan from the jarl. He watched as his champion undressed him, bestowing kisses upon his body as she did so, flicking her tongue across his skin. As she removed the last piece of clothing, he leaned over, kissing her deeply, his fingers adeptly unlacing the bodice of the simple dress she wore. He gently pulled the dress off of her and gazed upon her naked body, taking in the beauty he had only seen in his dreams. It was his turn to lay kisses upon her body and he kissed every inch of her, tasting the sweetness that was her very essence. With his mouth alone he drove her to the point of ecstasy as she clenched the bed cover beneath her, calling out his name. He sensed she was fighting her release and brought her to the edge, a determination to his ministrations. He was rewarded when her body shook in euphoric release.

He gazed upon this woman in front of him, a look of pleasure on her face. He positioned himself between her now; she cooed as his lips brushed against her skin. He took her mouth with his as he entered her, slamming his length into the depths of her womanhood. She raked her fingernails down his back with each thrust of his body; she cried out his name demanding more. She was fueling his primal desires, bringing him to a level of blissfulness he'd never experienced before; his own release so powerful he collapsed next to her, the only sound their heavy breathing. He drew her close, holding her to him. "My Spitfire," he finally said after a few moments, "I have a great love for you."

She nestled her head upon his chest, listening to the beating of his heart. She knew that she resided within it, that the words he spoke were true and that made her feel complete. She reached her arm across his broad chest, holding him as she said in return, "And I have a great love for you."


	23. The Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been nearly a month since Raveena and Ulfric consummated their relationship. Raveena travels to Whiterun to relinquish her title as Harbinger to Vilkas; she receives an unexpected gift.

Raveena stood at the window looking out upon the horizon watching as the sun rose. Her sleep had been tormented and she had found herself awake more often than not. When she would have these dreams before, Brynjolf would hold her tight and stroke her hair, calming her down with his voice until she fell back to sleep. Even though Ulfric held her until she fell asleep, he would return to his room so as to avoid any whispers amongst the servants; he wanted no accusations of impropriety leveled against either one of them during this customary time of mourning. They had discussed how they would approach announcing their relationship many times during the past couple of weeks and had agreed that until she returned from Jorrvaskr after the full moon they would refrain from any personal displays of affection in front of anyone. Raveena was sure that there was already some talk going on not only within the palace but throughout Windhelm as well; she had yet to return to Hjerim and was nearly always seen in the company of the jarl. Calder had come to the palace the day before to inquire of Raveena what plans she had for fortifying the house for the change of season. While he was there, he had inquired as to how she was doing since the passing of her husband. Her thoughts had remained upon Brynjolf the rest of the day causing her dreams to be tormented with images of his burned body. It was those images that kept floating to the top of her consciousness in her fitful sleep. 

At the rumbling of her stomach she decided to head down to the kitchen for something to eat; having not felt well the night before she had skipped the evening meal. She dressed and walked into the hallway, navigating the passageways to the kitchen with little thought as to the direction, she was well familiar with the path. The cook was growing accustomed to seeing her in the middle of the night asking for a sweetroll. As she neared the large room the air grew heavy with the aromatic smells of pheasant, rabbit and bread; her stomach growled loudly. She made her way to the head chef's ovens where she commonly found him, fighting the temptation to nibble on the various foods she passed. She spotted the cook at the same time he saw her; he approached her smiling. "Ah, Dragonborn, I was afraid you had decided your nightly sweetrolls were a thing of the past." 

She smiled and shook her head, "Never, Alton, just was unwell last night. I missed the evening meal and am feeling particularly famished this morning. I was hoping that you would be able to satisfy my craving for some kippered fish and cheese?" 

The chef chuckled and answered, "For you, Dragonborn, anything. Would you like me to have it brought to your room?"

She smiled, responding, "Yes, please and thank you, Alton." 

She headed back towards her room but found herself turning down the passageways that led to the garden. She was greeted by a burst of cold air as she pushed open the great door and a few snowflakes landed upon her nose and cheeks. She breathed in the freshness of the air, the crispness hitting her lungs and chasing the last remnants of drowsiness from her away. She sat on the bench beneath the trellis and watched the birds fly in and out of the opening in the roof above the foliage. She thought of all the happenings of the past month and a half since she returned from battling Alduin; the loss of her beloved Brynjolf and the subsequent search into his murder, the overturning of stones nearly long forgotten, the evolution of her relationship with Ulfric, all of these occurrences had left her spinning in circles without knowing which was the right direction to go. She needed time to deal with these changes before they drove her mad; she had been finding herself lost in tears of frustration more than anything as of late. She decided that when she returned from Whiterun and the naming of the new Harbinger she would take some time to pamper herself as much as she could. 

She caught Ulfric's scent upon the air before she heard the crunching of fallen leaves and snow beneath his feet. Smiling to herself she said, "Good morning, my jarl," as she looked up at him through her eyelashes, her voice edged slightly with enticement. 

He returned her smile and glanced around them making sure there were no prying eyes or ears out there with them then replied, "I will be happy when I am able to kiss the woman I love whenever and wherever I choose." He sat beside her, resting his hand upon her thigh, the only display of affection that he was willing to do, albeit covertly. "What brings my Spitfire out here so early this morn?" 

"Restless night," she answered quietly. "Have a lot on my mind, especially with this trip out to Whiterun today." 

"Are you reconsidering your decision to relinquish your title of Harbinger?"

"No, that has not changed. I think Vilkas is the more suited out of all of the Companions to lead them. He is...not as hotheaded as some of the others and more neutral than I. My alliance with the Stormcloaks caused a lot of dissent within Jorrvaskr and brought the Companions well known neutrality into question. Vilkas was the one who muddled through all of that and held the Companions together. I do not fault Kodlak for making me Harbinger, he saw in me what was needed to...fix the internal problem that had befallen the Companions." Her thoughts went to Kodlak's journal which lay on the bookshelf at her home in Whiterun with her other prized books. Kodlak had become a father figure to her; she just did not have the heart to discard his journal. 

"Then what occupies your mind?" 

"Revenge. Vindication. Mourning. Change." She sighed. "There's just been so much that has been going on that I haven't had time to breath one way or another. Seems the only time I can let my guard down is when you and I are together alone, but like you I'll be happier when we no longer have to hide our relationship." 

He nodded in agreement. "I know you do, Raveena. But the people expect you to be in mourning for an acceptable amount of time; I doubt they would say a week and a half was acceptable. They will be more willing to accept our union after a month's time." 

Her stomach grumbled softly and she put her hand upon it as she said, "I am sure Alton has had my food brought to my room by now, I should go eat." 

"You are feeling better than you were last night?" he asked as he stood then held his hand out to her, helping her to her feet. 

"Somewhat. I am definitely hungry though."

"You didn't even go down for one of your midnight sweetrolls?" he teased her. At her look he laughed, "Alton made mention of the Dragonborn's nightly ventures into the kitchens for a sweetroll." 

Laughing she said, "No, I didn't have one last night. And I can't help it; Alton's sweetrolls are so delectable!" 

They walked into the palace, feeling the warmth immediately as the scones in the hallways burned brightly. Suddenly there was a shift between them as they put on the facades of jarl and champion back on; they no longer walked as close together, their voices took a slightly different tone as they conversed as they continued walking through the palace. "When do you leave for Jorrvaskr, Dragonborn?" he asked. 

"Calder will be readying Shadowmere in a few hours time; it is my intention to leave Windhelm at midday. I intend to take care of a few things while I am in town, both with my home and at Dragonsreach." 

He nodded and said, "I will most likely not be able to see you off then as I am meeting with some of the jarls who sided with me during our fight with the Empire; they are probably looking for some kind of dispensation for their loyalty." 

"Politics, are they not joyous?" she snidely responded. 

"You will have to tell me what you think about it because when you return you will be engaging in the politics of Skyrim as well, my champion." He smiled at her glare, picked up her hand, and kissed the top of it as he said, "I bid you farewell and may Talos return you to us safely, Dragonborn." 'And return to me, my love,' he thought to himself. 

#####

Raveena dropped the gold coins into the stable hand's open hand with strict instructions of Shadowmere's care. There was more than one time that it was Shadowmere who saved her from certain death; that horse was truly a member of the Brotherhood like Astrid said. She spared no expense when it came to the upkeep of her loyal companion. She walked up the path from the stables to the city gate, taking note that the Khajiit traders were setting up, she would visit them on her way out as she always did. Seems she always found something of interest with them. She crossed the drawbridge and approached the giant doors of the city gate. "I trust the day's found you well, thane," the guard said. She nodded and replied, "Yes, it has. Thank you." He opened the doors to the gate and she stepped through. 

She stepped through and was greeted by the familiar sights of her first home since her return from Cyrodiil. She saw Adrianne working the forge to her right and to the left she saw Lars tear through while being chased by Braith in a game of tag, the two children nearly running into the city guards who grumbled about not being able to throw them into the dungeons at Dragonsreach, though they would never do such a thing. Amren saw her and waved as he walked into the Drunken Huntsman. She walked into Breezehome to be greeted by the savory scent of the pheasant stew that Lydia made using her family's recipe, a recipe she refused to devolve any of to anyone no matter how much she was bribed with. She climbed the stairs and headed to her room, noting that Lydia must have come through and prepared her room for her arrival as there were no signs of dust on any of her things that had gone unused for so long. She placed her pack upon her bed and sat at the table; she poured some water from the jug into a tankard on the table and took a long draw off of it. She removed her traveling boots and tossed them across towards her dresser just as Lydia entered the room. 

"Honored to see you again, my thane," Lydia greeted her. 

"Hi, Lydia. How's things going around here?" Raveena stood, pulled her traveling clothes off and walked over to her dresser. She found a warm dress and pulled it over her head, then opened her chest and pulled out a pair of fur boots and slipped them on. 

"Here at Breezehome? Not very much, my lady. People come by every so often and inquire as to if you are home, many bring condolences on your loss; some men with no cooth wished to offer their hands in marriage." 

"Oh, really?" She looked at her housecarl deadpan and asked, "I trust you corrected them in their errant assumptions?" 

Lydia smiled as she remembered chasing the men out of the city gates with her sword drawn, the guards merely standing aside; they had learned to avoid upsetting Lydia when it came to protecting the Dragonborn thane. "They will not return to the city." She cleared her throat then continued, "How are you doing?" 

Raveena sighed; she knew that she would have to answer this question eventually. This was exactly the reason why she rarely left the Palace of the Kings and when she did she was always in the company of either Ulfric or Galmar. "I am...adjusting. I no longer am in shock, I've stopped expecting to see him, but I am so angry still. It's odd, Lydia, we were apart for 14 years; even then I didn't feel like this." 

"Do you have any leads on who did this?" 

She nodded. "Yes, I've been collecting information from all parts of Skyrim from many of my contacts as well as contacts of the Brotherhood and the Guild. I am going to be speaking with Vilkas later tonight about it as well. I'll leave it in his hands as to what to do with it as Harbinger. But Rune gave us a description and it matched the description that the Brotherhood had on him as well." 

She nodded and then assisted Raveena with crating up her possessions she wanted with her to move to Windhelm. She was going to maintain Breezehome but was leaving it in the hands of Lydia to do with as she pleased. She had decided that since her life was now revolving around Ulfric and being amongst his top ranking officers as well as their new romance it was just wiser to move all her most valuable and sentimental possessions to her home there. After a few hours of packing and a few bowls of Lydia's coveted stew, Raveena headed to Jorrvaskr to speak with Vilkas before tomorrow night's ceremony. In the western sky she could see the sun setting as Tamriel's two moons became more prominent in the night's sky; she could hear wolves howling outside the city walls, beckoning the beast within her to give in to the wildness inside of her and run with them. She shook her head and climbed the steps to the ancient mead hall of the Companions. It had been a long time since she had walked through these doors, she felt almost anxious about being there. She walked in to see Njada and Athis were sparring again; some things just did not change anywhere, she thought as she chuckled. She headed immediately downstairs to Vilkas's room. The beast within her could find her way to him by his scent alone; he always had a particular musky smell to him, much different from that of his brother or anyone else within these walls. She came to his door and knocked, calling out, "Vilkas?" 

He opened the door after a moment and looked her over. "Well, whelp, you finally grace our halls again." 

"I am still the Harbinger, I will not abide by you calling me whelp." She pushed past him as she walked into his room, glancing around to see his meager belongings packed into crates, ready for the move into the Harbinger's quarters. "Can't wait for me to relinquish my position, can you?" 

He shut the door and looked at her and started to smile. "Not at all, Raveena. While I did not agree with your alliance with Jarl Ulfric and the Stormcloaks, having the Dragonborn as the Harbinger of the Companions was quite the boost to our numbers. Did you happen to notice that we have no open beds in here? When it was discovered that the Harbinger was the Dragonborn when the Stormcloaks took over Whiterun, people from all over started pouring into our honored hall in hopes of counseling with the Dragonborn. With this relinquishing of your title and your relocation to Windhelm as Jarl Ulfric's champion, I fear many of our number might leave."

She gaped at him, awed at his honesty. Her and Vilkas had never gotten along, any time they had to go out on a mission together they ended up squabbling amongst each other, though they trusted one another with each other's lives, especially after she had saved his life with her magic and potions when they went to retrieve the pieces of Wuuthrad from the Silver Hand after they had killed Kodlak. His admitting this was something she never would have expected from him. She suddenly shook her head and said, "Then I shall implore that no one leaves here just because of my stepping down. You can lead these new members in such a way that I can't; your leadership will be one of wisdom and teaching while mine was one that will only be remembered because of who I am, the Dragonborn." 

"I wish that you would stay here, Raveena," he said softly. "You brought a light to this hall that brought a new life to us." He cleared his throat. "We heard of your loss. Is there anything we can do to help you?" 

She smiled, a new respect for the man she had chosen to take her place. "Yes, Vilkas, there is." She sat down at the table and opened up the pouch she had brought with her and withdrew a stack of papers. She explained what she had already discovered with the aid of Babette and Rune and showed him the letter with the description of the officer who had claimed to be involved in the murder of Brynjolf. They stayed up most of the night discussing options and what the Companions could do until a decision was made. Once they were done discussing that, they moved on to what would occur the next evening at the ceremony. They found themselves exchanging stories of their exploits upon various adventures and it was hours before Raveena started to yawn. She stretched and looked at her Shield-Brother and smiled. "I think I'm going to make use of the Harbinger's room one last night." 

Vilkas nodded and walked with her to the quarters he would be occupying in less than a day. As they walked he said, "I never really had a problem with you, Raveena." 

"No?" she said, bemused. "Then why did you always give me such a hard time? You rode my ass if I made just one mistake in anything I did." 

"Because I knew that you were different than the others who had come through those doors," he admitted. "You might have been a nobody, but I saw that there was a somebody inside, a somebody that would change our lives and I didn't know how you were going to do so." 

"You thought I was going to bring ruin to the Companions?" 

He nodded, "Yes, I did. And as I watched you from afar with the others I saw that I was wrong and I began to see what Kodlak saw in you. I was jealous. I felt that Kodlak was an old fool for trusting you. And when you went off and joined the Stormcloaks, I swore I was right all along and that you were going to bring the righteous name of the Companions and bring great dishonor to us. I was wrong and I am sorry." 

She looked at him, a smile spreading across her face. "I forgive you, Vilkas." 

They bid each other good night and she walked into the Harbinger quarters. She looked around to see what she needed to pack away to take either over to Breezehome or perhaps send out to Windhelm but saw very little that she was attached to. She took the change of clothes that she had left in the wardrobe and put it in her pack, but most all of what remained in the room was what was once Kodlak's. She would leave it for Vilkas who would find it more to his liking, he would appreciate it. She saw the sweetroll on the table and smiled; Tilma must have remembered her fondness for the baked sweet. She nibbled upon the treat as she got ready for bed and then crawled in under the bed covers. As she drifted off to sleep, she could hear Brynjolf's voice singing her a lullaby like he once did so many years before. 

#####

Raveena woke up suddenly. She looked around her, forgetting where she was for a moment, fear reaching deep inside of her. She wanted to call out for Ulfric, then realized she was in Jorrvaskr. She sat up, pulling her legs up to her chest; she could feel the swelling sob within her chest. She fought back the tears as they spilled down her face, hating being alone right now. She longed for Ulfric's strong arms to be wrapped around her, her head upon his chest listening to the beating of his heart. She wanted to hear him tell her how things were going to be alright, she wanted to feel his lips upon her head as he kissed the top of it as she drifted off to sleep. She wanted this day to be over, she wanted to be finished with the ceremony and on her way back to the palace.

She climbed out of bed and walked over to the table that held the bowl and pitcher of water for washing her face. If she couldn't sleep, she would take a walk outside in the cool air, that should help clear her mind. She pulled out a robe from the wardrobe, put that on along with a pair of fur shoes and headed out of her quarters. She noticed that there was some activity in the living quarters and most of the beds were empty. Did she sleep longer than she thought she had? She ventured up the stairs to the main hall where she was greeted by the sight of a multitude of new Companions like Vilkas had said there were. Some were sitting at the tables eating, others were gathered in circles on the other side of the hall where they were boisterously telling of their latest adventures. She watched them all, her ears picking up various conversations that ranged from the upcoming ceremony that night to others anxious to see the Dragonborn Companion. She was amazed at the growth she saw before her and her heart swelled with pride. Kodlak was right, she realized. She did bring the Companions back to glory; not only in the fact that they could now remove the curse of the witches. The Dragonborn had slain the World-Eater and the Dragonborn was a Companion. That was what drove many to leave their homes to seek adventure with the legendary Companions and the legendary Dragonborn. She smiled in satisfaction. Kodlak would be proud.

She ventured outside before anyone saw her and sat in a chair where she could watch Farkas training new members. He saw her from across the yard and nodded, but did not take his attention away from his duties. Eventually a few members came up and started to talk to her and when they discovered that she was in fact Raveena, they swarmed her with requests for stories and advice, which she gave to them readily, smiling the whole time. She regaled them with the stories of fighting the Frostbite Spiders at Dustman's Cairn with Farkas, leaving out how squeamish he was with those creatures. As the afternoon stretched on towards the evening, she dined with many of them outside, enjoying the cool air of Whiterun. It wasn't until Aela approached her to tell her that the ceremony would be starting in the next hour. Raveena excused herself but not before getting one of the younger Companions to run down to Breezehome and ask Lydia to come up to Jorrvaskr to retrieve the last of her belongings from the mead hall. She readied herself in the Harbinger quarters for the last time, and then consigning a couple of the Companions to assist Lydia with bringing her belongings back to her home, she left the room for the last time.

She made her way up to the Skyforge, the mighty battleaxe Wuuthrad strapped upon her back. She spoke to the gathered members of the honor of being a Companion; she spoke of the loyalty to their Shield-Siblings that bound them together and made them a family. She kept her promise to Vilkas and implored all there to stay true to the ways of the Companions and never abandon one another. After speaking of all these things that made them Companions, she looked to Vilkas and asked for him to come forward. She then spoke of Vilkas's courage in battle, his strength in leadership and how he had considered Kodlak a father to him and his twin Farkas as much as anyone else ever had. She told all there that it was his wisdom and his loyalty that made him her choice in making him Harbinger as her duties as the Dragonborn required her to be in Windhelm. She removed Wuuthrad from her back and handed it to Vilkas stating that only a brave and true leader like Vilkas should be worthy to wield such a mighty weapon. And with that she ended her leadership as Harbinger of the legendary Companions.

Hours later as she sat inside the hall at a table nibbling on food set before her, she thought of how relieved she now felt, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled as she watched the Companions mingle amongst each other; she felt accomplished. She saw Aela approach her and waved her to the chair on the other side of the table. "Greetings, Shield-Sister, how can I help you?"

Aela sat down, watching Raveena pick off pieces of bread and roll them into little pieces and then eat them. "I was wondering how you are doing, Sister."

"I am doing better now that this is done. I guess I was more nervous about the transition than I needed to be."

"Why would you be nervous?"

She took a drink from the tankard of water in front of her, then another bite of bread. "I don't know. With everything that has been happening as of late I guess I was just expecting something to go wrong."

"Thankfully everything went off without a hitch." She smiled and they began to discuss Raveena's plans for the future. Raveena avoided discussing her relationship with Ulfric, though she could tell that Aela suspected that there was more to the relationship than what she was letting on about. They spoke of the loss of Skjor, Aela alluding to the rumors of a relationship between the two of them as being true; they spoke of healing and moving on. They bonded in a way that they never had any of the times they had gone out hunting together; they were more open and honest with each other as well. Perhaps that is why Aela suddenly asked Raveena, "What do you plan on doing?"

Raveena looked at her confused. "What do you mean, what do I plan on doing? Doing about what?"

Aela looked at her in shock, asking, "You do not know?"

"Know? Know what, Aela?"

The woman sighed then said quietly, "Close your eyes. Listen to within you. Do you hear it? Do you sense it?"

Raveena looked at her but obediently closed her eyes, blocking out the sounds of the din around her. She sat there for a moment, not hearing anything, not sensing anything. Just as she was about to open her eyes back up and tell Aela that she still had no idea what she was talking about she heard it. Her jaw fell open as she heard the soft beating from deep within. Suddenly everything that had been affecting her in recent weeks made sense to her and she cursed herself for not realizing what was happening to her. She opened her eyes and stared at Aela in disbelief. "For the love of Mara!" she breathed.

Aela nodded and said, "Sister, you are with child."


	24. Endings

Ulfric sat down hard upon his bed, his eyes going from Raveena’s face to her stomach and then back to her face. She had found him in his room when she had returned from Whiterun and wasted no time with telling him of her condition. “With child?” he repeated. When she nodded he ran his hand through his hair. “Are you sure?” Again, she nodded. He sighed as he knew that there was a chance he was the father as much as there was a chance that her late husband was, only time would tell. He nodded slowly as he thought of their situation. While it would be a few more months before her body started to show the telltale signs of pregnancy, regardless if they were to start acknowledging their relationship in public or not; the people were going to either assume that she had been with child when her husband was killed or they will believe that it is his child and that the two of them had already been involved in a sexual relationship for quite some time. He suddenly smiled at her, a sense of pride overwhelming him as he thought of the possibility that it was his seed that was growing within her womb. “Come, my Spitfire, come sit by me.” When she sat next to him, he cupped her face and said, “We will take this one day at a time. We don’t have to make any kind of announcement about your pregnancy until you are ready to and only then.” He softly kissed her lips and stroked her cheek, resting his forehead on hers and looking into her eyes. “Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask. I will give you everything and anything that is in my power.”  
She kissed him back and said softly, “I want to wake up next to you for once. I hate waking in the night to find you gone. Who cares if the servants whisper?”  
He smiled and asked, “Did you think you were going to be able to leave my room tonight?” He kissed her again, this time longer and deeper. “I have had plans for this night for a while and we are going to see them through.”  
Her eyes gleamed as she ran her fingers along his neck and twirled his hair between them. “Then I shall endeavor to do as my jarl commands.”

#####

Galmar and Ulfric sat at the table discussing the issue of security for the jarl and his champion, Ulfric insisting on extra guards for Raveena. It had been just a few short months previous that the jarl and Dragonborn had publicly acknowledged their relationship had turned romantic; the people seemed pleased with the coupling. “Dammit, Ulfric, she’s the Dragonborn! Even if I assign an extra detail to her I’d still wager she can do a mighty fine job of protecting herself and you with no help from anyone else. Just because you two are tumbling around in the sheets doesn’t change her fighting skills and you sure the hell know that!”  
He shook his head, saying, “No, old friend, that’s not it. I have my reasons for wanting an extra detail assigned to her from the time we leave here for Solitude until we get back.”  
Galmar stared at him, frustrated. “What? You’re not going to tell me what those reasons are?”  
Before Ulfric could say anything more they heard Raveena answer, “Because I am with child Galmar; Ulfric is not going to risk harm coming to this babe.”  
Galmar looked up to see her standing in the doorway, her hands resting underneath the slightly swelling bump that spoke of an unborn baby within. He looked at Ulfric again to see him grinning. “I completely agree with you Ulfric, an extra few guards will join Raveena’s detail.” He watched as Raveena joined them at the table; he couldn’t help but smile. “Talos preserve us if the child is born Shouting like his mother.”  
Ulfric could not continue the laughter that erupted from him. “Pray that if the child Shouts it will be as a bear cub’s roar.” At Raveena’s glare he laughed even harder. “Forgive me, my love,” he said as he tried to stop laughing. She mumbled something about wolves and then inquired as to the itinerary for their departure for Solitude in two days time. They sat and discussed the trip for the next few hours until Galmar excused himself to retire to his own quarters. Ulfric looked at Raveena and reached for her hands, kissing the tops of them while looking into her eyes. “I wanted to speak to you about something, Raveena; it’s been in my thoughts a lot lately.” At her look of questioning he continued on. “People are going to start noticing that you are with child. They will most likely assume that this is my child. There will be talk if you give birth to what they assume is a bastard child.”  
“Are you telling me that I need to address that this child could very well be Brynjolf’s?”  
He shook his head, “Not necessarily.” He paused for a moment then continued. “If this child turns out to be mine, you have the heir to my kingdom within your womb. If it is my child, being born a bastard would make their claim questionable.” She started to retort when he put his finger to her lips. “If I take you as my bride it secures the child’s place.”  
She sat back, her eyes searching him. “Even if this is Brynjolf’s?”  
He smiled and nodded. “Regardless if I fathered this child or if he did.” He looked her directly in her eyes and said softly, “Raveena, when they crown me as the High King I want to present the people of Skyrim with a queen as well. The only way I can do that is if you say you will.”  
She sat there, looking at him, his words echoing in her ears. She thought of the child growing within her womb and absentmindedly began to rub her stomach. She wanted this child to have a father and she wanted the family that had been denied her so many times throughout her life. She thought about her own love for Ulfric, a love she had once denied herself only to realize that in doing so she fell in love with him even more. And as she looked in his eyes she found herself loving him even more for accepting this child as his own without knowing if he was indeed the father or not. She found herself starting to smile, nodding as she answered, “Yes, Ulfric. I will be your wife.” 

#####

Blue and silver streamers were strung up high between the walls of the Castle Dour in Solitude, all bearing the symbol of the Stormcloak bear upon them. As expected, all the jarls were in agreement in naming Ulfric High King and less than an hour after the Moot had been called to order he stood upon the balcony looking down upon the people gathered in the courtyard with Raveena by his side. He had addressed the people, promising that under his rule Skyrim would prosper and be rid of the Aldmeri Dominion; he promised to rebuild all the cities and towns that had been ravaged by the Civil War. It was then that he announced that he would not be doing the ruling over Skyrim alone but that the Dragonborn had accepted his proposal of marriage. The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers and applause in celebration. Ulfric and Raveena looked over the crowd, hand in hand, High King and his soon-to-be queen, and waved. That’s when Raveena saw one of the initiates from the Brotherhood, she remembered his name being Baltha, in the crowd; she watched as he seemed oblivious to the celebrating around him, his eyes never wavering from his target. With her free hand she found the small bundle of throwing knives she had secured inside the folds of her dress and prepared herself to defend Ulfric, herself and her unborn child. Suddenly a scuffle broke out amongst the crowd and she saw the familiar faces of Sapphire and Thrynn as well as both of Vilkas and Farkas as they advanced toward the center of the crowd, seemingly in the same direction as Baltha as he moved in. She suddenly recognized who they were going for; she had seen him many times in the past few years but he had gone missing after one of the campaigns against the Imperials. The beast blood within her sensed the fear in the air and her heart accelerated; it was Nazir’s braggart.  
Ulfric saw the change in his champion’s stance, saw the beginnings of the commotion below and then he saw who was at the center of it. “Dominicus?” he said questioningly to himself. He watched as the members of the Companions, the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood surrounded him and restrained him. His eyes grew dark and his lips set into a straight line as he realized what had just happened. “Bring him into Castle Dour,” he called down to Raveena’s friends then addressed the crowd telling them to celebrate. Then he and Raveena went inside and found their way down to the main room where just months before they slew both Tullius and Rikke. Dominicus was in a chair, both twins on either side of him. “You’re the Penitus Oculatus officer?” roared Ulfric upon entering the room.  
The man snorted as he laughed half-heartedly; he spat towards Ulfric, missing the High King’s boots. “What can I say? I was promised more than you would ever give me.”  
“Doesn’t seem like you were ever able to collect on that promise, Dominicus, nor will you ever be,” Raveena snapped; she felt the burning of the Shout in her throat as it tried to work its way out of her.  
“Oh you would have been the grand prize, Dragonborn.” He laughed wickedly as he leered at her. “All I had to do is kill all those around you and bring you to… Well, that still could happen.”  
“Bring me to who, traitor?” she demanded, her hands now flexing as she tried to contain her anger; sparks were starting to emit off of her fingertips.  
“All you had to do was stay out of the way and let things happen. But you had to get involved in the war, you had to side with Ulfric.” He shook his head, playing with them. “If you had only decided to fight for the Empire you might have been left alone after you got away from Helgen. You weren’t supposed to survive that, but you did. They weren’t happy with that; not only did they fail to take your head but even the World-Eater couldn’t even kill you then. And then they discovered that you were the Dragonborn when you lead the assault on Whiterun.” He clucked his tongue like an old woman scolding an errant child. “At that point they knew that you must die.”  
Baltha, the Brotherhood initiate, held his dagger against the man’s throat hard enough to prick the skin and bring a thin line of blood to the top. “Answer the Dragonborn, worm.”  
“You think threatening to kill me is going to scare me? Death would be preferable than being found out a failure; failure is not an option for them.”  
“You fail to understand your situation, Dominicus,” Raveena said as she advanced upon him. “We don’t have to kill you. I can send you back to the Sanctuary and have you tortured for everything you know, and we assassins are really good with torture. We will bring you to the point of death only to bring you back to full health and start all over again. I will summon Dremora and leave you to their whims. I will hold you in suspended animation and allow my twisted assassin Cicero to carve upon you! I am Champion to the Divines as well as to the Daedric Lords! Do not tempt me to inflict worlds of pain beyond your imagination for all the pain that you have caused me.”  
Dominicus looked at the woman and saw a fate worse than death in her pitch black eyes. He looked around at all in the room, swallowing. He felt the blade press against his neck slightly harder. “It’s Elenwen,” he said looking down. “She’s been giving the orders since she realized that Raveena had been picked up at the ambush. It was her job to locate the Emperor’s bastard granddaughter and fix the mistakes Tullius had made.”  
Raveena thought a moment then continued, “You were going to report to her once you completed your mission, right?” He nodded. “Where is she?”  
The man shook his head. “She has probably already been given word of my capture and has left.”  
“Where were you supposed to meet her?”  
“Northwatch Keep,” he answered.  
Raveena stood there a moment, staring at him. As she digested this bit of information she felt a sense of calm overcome her; she was one step closer to avenging Brynjolf’s murder. She looked at Baltha and nodded then watched as he plunged his dagger into Dominicus’s neck, blood spraying up the assassin’s arm. The blade pierced the trachea immediately, silencing any scream that might have come forth from his lips. Baltha expertly drew the dagger across the front of the man’s neck, ripping flesh and bits of bone out; Dominicus was dead by the time his body hit the floor. Baltha licked the blood from his blade then sheathed it, smiling at the Listener. “Elenwen is mine,” was all she said before she turned and walked out. 

#####

Ulfric grabbed Raveena’s shoulder and spun her around, a look of fear in his eyes. “Do not go off halfcocked, Raveena! I know what that bitch can do!”  
She looked at him, anger blazing in her black eyes. “I read the dossier, Ulfric. I know what she did to you, I saw what she did to you!” Her thoughts went to the lines of scars along his back and down his chest, the areas of his skin that were scarred from the burnings she inflicted upon his body; every time she saw the reminders of his capture her loathing of that dark elf boiled within her. Now that she knew that Elenwen was responsible for so much of her pain and anguish, all she could think of was repaying the favor. “Is she more powerful than Alduin?”  
“If you go halfcocked she will be!” he snapped at her.  
“Ulfric, you will not stop me from doing this. No matter what you try to do, I am killing that bitch.”  
“How do you propose to do so? If Dominicus is right, I doubt even Shadowmere could get you to Northwatch Keep before she receives word of his capture.”  
She hesitated to tell him her final secret. “I told you that I took care of an internal issue with the Companions?” He nodded and she continued, “That issue was the fact that certain members of the Companions are werewolves. I wasn’t there when Kodlak was killed by the Silver-Hand; I was out on a mission from him. That’s why I slew the witches at Glenmoril Cave, it is the witches head that cures one of the beast blood and that was what he wanted, he wanted to be cured. Not all of those whose veins run with the blood of the wolf choose to be cured of their lycanthropy though.” She watched his eyes for his reaction and seeing none continued on. “Even if I miss her, I will smell her and I will be able to follow her scent. She is not going to get away.”  
The High King listened to what his soon to be queen was saying, her admittance that she was a werewolf and that even with the cure she chose to remain one. He looked at her, concern written on his face and touching his eyes. He could see her determination in her eyes and her stance and knew that her mind was made up and that even he could not stop her. He rested his hands on her shoulders and said, “Very well, my love. I don’t like this but I’m not going to be able to change your mind, that I can see. I will not argue your determination; just promise me that you will return.”  
She smiled, her eyes taking an ominous look about them. “I will return, you have my word on that, Ulfric. I have never lost my prey before.” 

#####

Raveena stood on the beach by Northwatch Keep, scanning the hills above her. Vilkas and Farkas stood behind her as well as Aela who joined the trio when they run into her returning from clearing a homestead of bears that had moved in. She pointed in the direction of Steepfall Burrow and said, “She went that way.”  
Aela nodded her agreement. “Lead the way, Sister. I’m right behind you.”  
They traversed the terrain in the twilight of the night, following the dark elf’s scent upon the air. They made little sound as they crept along in the shadows, the women’s sense of smell heightened by the wolf blood within them. They avoided a patch of trolls just before the Burrow, the scent of elf blood drawing them within. Vilkas cautioned on a possible trap and drew his sword. Aela drew her bow and crept forward, sniffing the air. Raveena used her Aura Whisper Shout and suddenly she could see the heartbeat of every creature within this cave; she scanned each one looking for any clue as to which was elf and which was beast. They inched forward, moving in a diamond formation. Suddenly Raveena stopped and pointed; her voice was barely a whisper when she said to her companions “There, in that part of the cave. She’s trapped, there’s no way out of there. Only thing is there’s lots of hiding places and she’s not alone.” She smiled wickedly as she yelled out, “Elenwen, your time has come! You have nowhere to run to! You cannot return to your homeland if you continue to fail at killing me!” When Elenwen remained silent, Raveena laughed and taunted her. “Such a fine example of your elven superiority, Elenwen! What are your superiors going to say at that?”  
“I will not fail in my orders, Dragonborn!” came the angry voice of the former emissary to Skyrim. “There shall be no rightful heir to the Empire throwing it into further chaos and we elves will be there to take control of it and rule over you weaklings the way it was intended!”  
Raveena muffled her foot falls and nocked an arrow dipped in a paralytic poison in her bow; she slowed her breathing and used Aura Whisper once more to show her the way as she crept along the path towards the back of the cave. She heard Aela’s heartbeat behind her and further away she could hear the twins’ individual rhythms; she focused on what her eyes saw that theirs could not… the essence of the elven blood pumping in and out of their hearts. They moved along unnoticed for a few yards before an ice spike coming flying by them from above. Raveena’s head snapped up and saw the faint glow of blood pumping; she brought the bow around and concentrated on the cave wall above her until she could see the break in the stone and saw the flesh of the Altmer. She released the arrow sending it directly into the soft underside of the Altmer’s arm where there was little in way of protection; the arrow sunk itself deep within the elf, severing several arteries bringing a quick death. Despite her quick reaction, the elves now knew where the group of Companions were as now there was a bluster of activity and a group of Thalmor Justiciars rushing towards the group.  
Vilkas ran forward with Wuuthrad; it was said that the mighty battle axe was extremely deadly to elves and the new Harbinger was more than willing to put it to the test. As Vilkas and Farkas fought off the elves, Aela and Raveena pushed forward, their arrows zipping through the air and meeting their marks with deadly accuracy. Elenwen’s scent was getting stronger, Raveena could smell the unmistakable scent of fear in the air. She could feel the anger welling up inside her, she felt her beast blood start to boil, she felt the change forcing itself upon her; she fought to not transform but knew it was going to be a losing battle. She charged forward, following the fear laced scent of the elf towards an alcove in the cave when suddenly she was struck by a charge of lightning bolts. She heard Elenwen laugh and say, “I am going to enjoy setting you aflame like I did to that thief you married.”  
The world snapped in front of Raveena’s eyes. She felt the tremor race through her body, she felt the wrenching of her bones and muscles as they shifted into her wolf form; the last thing she heard before the beast blood took over her body completely was Aela shouting to the twins that Raveena was changing.  
The werewolf leaped through the cave towards the scent of the elf, the hunger for blood and flesh all-consuming and being driven by the pure desire of revenge. The red fur streaked through the passageway and into the darkness. Aela ran after her Shield Sister, ready to shift if she needed as well. A loud scream pierced the air and suddenly all the elves froze and looked at each other as they listened to the harrowing tortured shouts followed by a loud growling that echoed against the walls within, the screams slowly dying to nothing. Aela saw her sister in wolf form sitting upon the convulsing body of the elf, blood sprayed against the walls. The stench of blood was heavy in the air and Aela held back, not knowing if Raveena would attack in a blind bloodlust. She waited and watched, noting that Raveena’s transformation was much smoother than the first time she shifted; perhaps it was the sense of peace that seemed to envelope her as the elf’s body finally gave up the fight, Raveena’s vengeance sated. Slowly her body returned to normal albeit streaked with blood. She stood naked and looked at the bloodied and broken corpse below her, a sneer upon her blood stained lips. She took her armor from Aela, noting that she would have to have it repaired again due to her transformation. She shrugged slightly at the thought and got dressed, remaining quiet as she digested her actions. She knew she pleased Hircine by the hunt as well as pleasing Namira for feasting upon the flesh of the dead. As she walked out of the cavern followed by Aela, she ran her thumb along her blood drenched lip then licked the blood off saying, “Death has never tasted as sweet as it has today.” She smiled as she exited the cave.

#####

Riften was abuzz with the visit of the High King and Queen and the young prince, Maccon. Raveena had been insistent on needing to go and check in on the Thieves Guild, not that Ulfric would have denied her the trip. He took the opportunity to speak with Jarl Laila and discuss how well Riften had been faring in the year and a half since him and his queen had rid Skyrim of the Empire and drove every last Thalmor out. As she put on a warm cloak, he held Maccon on his lap and smiled at his son, knowing that she was bringing the child to his father’s grave. With his red hair and green eyes, there had been little doubt of who had fathered this child and Ulfric had kept true to his promise, making the child his son and his heir. “You keep an eye on your mother now, Maccon,” he said teasingly. “She might just want to give up the life of being queen and go back to her life of adventure as a master thief.”  
Raveena chuckled and said, “No worries on that my love. I have more than enough adventure these days chasing this little wolf cub around the palace as he is absolutely determined to steal all sweetrolls that Alton can make up.”  
“Now I wonder where he gets that from?” he chuckled.  
She approached him, a bearskin cloak in her hands for Maccon who jumped down from Ulfric’s lap and ran towards his mother. “What? His thieving skills or his taste for the sweetrolls?”  
“Oh we know where he gets his craving for sweetrolls from, but is he good at stealing them from Alton because of you or because of Brynjolf?” He stood and smiled at his beaming wife.  
“The both of us I think.” She put the cloak on the young prince then looked at her husband who took her into his arms.  
“I think you’re right.” He smiled and kissed her lips. “I’m just afraid that you’re going to give birth to a giant sweetroll,” he said as his hands slipped down to her bulging belly, feeling the kicks of his child within her womb. At her laugh he drew her close to him again, taking care not to hold her too tight, and drew her into a soft passionate kiss.  
“You’re going to be late for your meeting with Jarl Laila if you keep this up, Ulfric,” she teased as she wrapped her fingers in the locks of his hair.  
He groaned softly, a smile playing upon his lips. “I’d rather spend this evening with you.” He kissed her again, then stepped back, leaving his hands upon her pregnant belly.  
She picked up Maccon and walked towards the door, then stopped and looked back at Ulfric. She saw the young soldier she had gotten her first crush on, she saw the captured rebel jarl who sat beside her in a cart bound for the chopping block, she saw the man she felt a deep and intense love for, the man who was there to pick up the pieces and make her whole again, the man who accepted her for everything she was. She felt the new life growing inside her womb and smiled. He was her king, she was his queen; they were each other’s heroes for all time. 

FINI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends "Helden".... 
> 
> Kind of. I've been asked to write more indepth on the Brynjolf & Raveena storyline, their past. In thinking about this I have decided that I will write short add ons to the story, i.e. Raveena's time with the Companions, her time with the Guild and the Brotherhood.

**Author's Note:**

> Helden is a German word for "heroes"


End file.
